


Cheeseburgers, Tech and Steve

by LagLemon



Series: Cheeseburger, Tech, Steve [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AU, Bickering, Depression, Dimension Travel, Fighting, Friendship, Getting Together, Incubus & Succubus World, Incubus! Tony, M/M, Minor Injuries, Nightmares, Nudity, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Self Loathing, Sexual Harassment, Steve Feels, Steve eats his feelings, Tony Feels, Tony Has Issues, Tony has a tail, Tony has no social skills, Violence, fear of ice/cold, fear of moving on in life, grieving proccess, missunderstandings, offscreen death/gore, possessive! Tony, references to death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 97,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LagLemon/pseuds/LagLemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's known that there are other worlds out there; he just hasn't paid much attention to them.  Living with Bucky and helping out the Avengers is a full time job, and he doesn't have time to daydream about things like that when he can hear about them at work.  When they get called in to investigate the appearance and deaths of Incubi and Succubi civil war survivors, they find that a portal has been opened between their two worlds.  Wanting to do the right thing, Steve offers to go through and talk to those in charge - only he didn't count on getting stuck on the other side of the portal.</p><p>Once he's back on earth, though, he's got a whole new problem on his hands.  An annoyingly brilliant Incubus has followed him back and he's left to deal with the mess all by himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up for off screen death/on screen violence/gore. There's a bit of blood here, and a whole lot of public nudity :)  
> Let me know if you see any weird spelling/punctuation errors.  
> Comments are much appreciated! :D
> 
>  
> 
> thenumber2pencil did this awesome fan art for this fic :D (uncoloured) http://heidiafterdark.tumblr.com/post/48343697277/its-not-really-that-nsfw-but-i-dont-really-want  
> (coloured) http://heidiafterdark.tumblr.com/post/48509492560/cleaned-and-with-color-it-was-a-bit-of-a

Steve yawned, catching a glimpse of green and yellow patchwork outside the jet’s grubby window. He could easily imagine that the world below them had been built and worked over by ants instead of humans; he had never had an ant farm as a child, but he had seen the ads in the magazines the girls had brought out while they waited to preform, and they had always seemed nice enough. It was silly to be thinking about a kid’s toy all of a sudden, yet all he wanted to do now was pull out his sketchbook and get out a few idle doodles of ants wearing overalls and straw hats. He might even do a few of them working with farm machinery.

He poked around in his bag and then remembered that he had left his sketchbook at home for safekeeping. Oh well. At least it was safe where it was instead of off flying into the middle of nowhere with him in a prototype SHIELD jet that had had the words ‘wash me’ written smarmily on the side of it. He turned his attention back to the view, staring at the cotton candy clouds and the tiny shapes in the fields below, all of it pleasantly familiar. That was the nice thing about air travel; it never really changed all that much except to get faster, and maybe a bit more comfortable. Years could go by and farm country would always look just like farm country, at least from up above anyway. The trip was going exceptionally well, which was a miracle all things considered. Autumn wasn’t generally the best time for flights considering how icy things got once the cold started to roll in, but today there had been no problems getting off the runway and out of the city.

Normally he preferred ground transport to flying even in a nice enough jet like this one; he had lost his taste for air travel after crashing into the ice taking down the Red Skull’s bomber all those years ago, and he highly doubted that he would ever enjoy flying again. He begrudgingly put up with the way his stomach gurgling in displeasure, forcing himself to remember that the jet was getting them where they needed to be a heck of a lot faster than a boat or car ever could; the faster they got this over with, the faster he could get home after all.

Usually he didn’t have the time to look out the window like this; there were always a thousand and one different things to do, and most of the time he was in charge of making sure all of those things happened the way they were supposed to happen. Thankfully, today’s mission wasn’t frantic like most ended up being, leaving him plenty of time to think. Bucky always joked that thinking was for idiots; Steve could understand the sentiment considering how many unpleasant things his mind could get up to when left alone to mull things over like this. Still, he couldn’t complain. The change in pace was nice, almost like he was getting a holiday of sorts and god knows he hadn’t had one of those in years.

The changing landscape below was extraordinarily hypnotic, but that might have been because he was two blinks away from blacking out. He hoped to god that he wasn’t muttering things under his breath again; the last thing he wanted now was Bucky giving him shit about it. He knew that Bucky meant well, but sometimes it was nice to let things drop every once in a while. Steve looked to his right and saw that as expected, Bucky was busy taking his pre-mission nap sans boots, his white and green lucky spotted socks out on display; the other Avengers were going through their own rituals.

Natasha was busy sharpening her throwing knifes, mumbling something to herself in Russian. Bruce was studiously reading the tactical briefing they had been given by a very harassed looking Coulson; Thor was reading over his shoulder, having forgotten his at home. Clint was busy making fun of the both of them, as usual. It was nice to not be the only one reading the briefing in his off time for once; he always tried to make sure that he kept up to date, but some days it was harder than others to get motivated. As the leader of the Avengers, he felt that it was his duty to be as prepared as possible when heading out on _any_ mission be it big or small. They might have teased him about his obsession with rereading briefings, but he was pretty sure they knew that he was doing it for a good reason. He had lost two night’s sleep this mission and he didn’t regret his decision; those lost hours had been spent poring over the documentation that the illustrious Doctor Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme, had sent over to SHIELD as a favor.

According to the mission briefing a portal had sprung to life in an unspecified location in the Arctic, and from what Steve could gather it had appeared all by itself with no source or caster to be found – at least not in _their_ plane of existence; the location itself had been wiped from the report, which made Steve sure that something was going in the background that SHIELD didn’t want them to see.

The Sorcerer Supreme had seemed surprised by the sudden appearance portal, although it was debatable as to whether he was actually surprised or not; Steve had never met the man, but according to Fury he was a tough guy to understand. Of course Fury hadn’t used those _exact_ words, but Steve had gotten the gist of it. Strange was acting as a consultant on this case, unable to directly attend to the situation as he was currently fighting something called a Dormammu. Steve wasn’t sure what that was, but he assumed that it was something dangerous if it had warranted Strange’s full attention.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked down at the printouts spread across his lap, wishing that the font was just a teensy bit bigger; it was getting harder and harder to read all the magical mumbo-jumbo, although he didn’t really need to reread it. He had memorized most of the information the first time around, so it wasn’t like he was going to miss anything. It was certainly something he hadn’t seen before.

The portal was connecting Earth to a demonic world occupied by lust demons – Incubi and Succubi, creatures who had no real contact with the human world outside of magical intervention and dreams. It was certainly a change up from their normal enemies; not that they were enemies at the moment. SHIELD could have probably dealt with the woefully underdressed Succubus and Incubus cast-outs on their own, but he suspected SHIELD didn’t really want to have to deal with them anymore than Steve did. Oh well. At least it wasn’t Hydra screwing around with forces they couldn’t control again; he would take naked lust demons over Hydra miscreants any day. SHIELD had at least had the presence of mind to tell them that they were around strictly for protection and observation, nothing else. The demons hadn’t been aggressive or attacked anybody, but you never knew what would happen when strange demons wandered abroad without supervision. He supposed that was why they had been called in at any rate; the Avengers made cheap babysitters considering Howard Stark picked up their tab.

The pictures SHIELD had included in the briefing were grotesque bordering on obscene; Steve had a hard time believing that the creatures would be much of a danger to _anyone_. It was clear that they weren’t coming through willingly; someone on the other side was pushing them through. Everyone who had come through the portal was severely wounded. Some had died days before anyone could even get close enough to offer help. If a nearby scientific convoy hadn’t come upon the frostbitten bunch of survivors on a routine scouting mission they would probably have died just like all the others; Steve thought it was a little odd that the scientists had showed up at the same time the demons had, but so far he couldn’t tell if they were doing anything wrong. At least they had called it in before anyone else had suffered unnecessarily.

So far the scientists had rounded up thirty seven living Succubi and three Incubi and none of them were talking. It wasn’t like they were unwilling to speak; most of them were just too broken down and injured to spit out the words. Their language was modeled after the Allspeak – or at least that’s what Thor had assured Steve – and while the scientist had reported a few words being spoken, there was nothing of value in them. Most of what came out was mumbled names, curses and on the rare occasion, battle commands. Some of the survivors were being kept sedated or in medically induced comas; those placed in comas were considered unlikely to survive. They were going to have to go through the portal if they wanted to find out what was going on. Steve didn’t like the idea one bit, but he didn’t see any other options available.

 

“Quit reading and rest your eyes,” Bucky muttered, trying to get comfortable in his seat. He cracked an eye open, looking none too pleased when he saw that Steve was still trying valiantly to read. “We’re only going to be in the air another few hours. Get some rest Steve. You’re no use to us if you’re dead on your feet.”

Steve sighed and gathered the briefings up, setting them on the floor. He rubbed his eyes. “I guess I’m as prepared as I’m going to be.” He rolled his shoulders and then leaned back into the filthy, ridiculously padded seat letting his eyes close. “Alright. A few minutes and then I’ll be good to go.”

“Sure. I’ll wake you up in a bit,” Bucky murmured.

 

 

Three hours later the jet touched down, and Steve woke with a start. He cursed, finding the rest of the team already up and about readying themselves to disembark. Bucky squeezed Steve’s shoulder and mumbled a quiet apology as he fumbled with his boots; Steve tried to hurry himself into his winter armor, zipping his parka up on top of it all before the cold could dig too deeply into his bones. He had never been good with the cold even before he had woken up from the ice. When he had been young the floor in his bedroom had liked to freeze over in the morning if the mercury dipped below zero. Getting up and ready for school had been a real pain; to this day he still kept a spare pair of shoes beside his bed even though he knew damned well that the heater wasn’t going to give out and ice the place up during the night anymore. Bucky teased him about it all the time, but Steve knew for a fact that he wasn’t the _only_ one with a pair of emergency shoes hiding by his bed.

The parka Steve had brought home the first week they had moved in together had gotten more than its fair share of mockery too. Steve had stubbornly refused to take the thing back to the store, content to have it sitting in his closet until the end of time if necessary, a safety precaution just like the shoes. It wasn’t like he was going to outgrow the thing after all, he had reasoned; the serum had taken care of that all on its own. He was glad he had thought to bring the parka along that morning. The look on Bucky’s face was _priceless_. He could spot jealousy from a mile away and boy did Bucky look _cranky_.

“I guess the parka isn’t looking quite so bad now, huh Bucky?” Steve teased, zipping up the front of his parka and tugging the hood up over his head.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky muttered, fidgeting in his SHIELD issue winter uniform. It was a whole lot tighter and thinner looking than Steve’s parka, and it didn’t look like it was all that much warmer even if it had been designed to withstand blizzard-like conditions; SHIELD’s R&D team had been so proud of it too. It was a real shame. He may have mocked Steve earlier for looking like a giant blue golf ball, but it was clear that he would have stolen the parka away in an instant if he had known he could get away with it.

Bundled up nice and tight like this, Steve figured that the cold might not bring his usual nightmares with it; that would be a nice change. He had woken up in a cold sweat shivering frantically for the past few months, every nightmare getting steadily worse. He was so tired of waking up half out of his mind, his body dripping with cold sweat, his muscles cramped from flailing about in his sleep. He could still taste the water even now. He was sure that there wouldn’t ever be a day in his life where he wouldn’t hear sound of ice cracking above his head as he dropped off to sleep. They weren’t little nightmares; they were full-blown _events_.

Bucky had ordered him to keep the door open after the last few, afraid of what might happen if Steve woke up trapped in a room he couldn’t recognize in his sleep addled state. If Bucky hadn’t come storming into Steve’s room with a gun drawn a couple of months ago, thinking that Steve was being murdered, Steve was sure he would have smashed his way clean through his bedroom walls to escape the ghastly phantasms that had chased him through his dreams. The nightmares themselves weren’t exactly new additions to their lives. Both of them had their nightly terrors to keep them company and after the ice, and the time Bucky had spent as the Winter Soldier, they both couldn’t get a decent night’s sleep unless sedated; Steve couldn’t even manage _that_ for more than an hour or so. The serum metabolized everything too fast, and sleeping pills lasted mere minutes. He had been tempted to ask them to make him something stronger at first, but the thought of them finding something that could really knock him out had made him nervous. If they could find it and had it lying around, anyone could get a hold of it, and he didn’t even want to think of what the Red Skull or Hydra would do with that kind of information about him.

“So who’s our contact here again?” Clint asked, stretching out, cracking his knuckles one at a time. Natasha flicked him in the ear, scowling at him. “If you read the briefing, you would know.”

“Yeah, but that takes the fun out of it. This is an _escort_ mission.” Clint grinned at Bucky, as if trying to get him in on the joke.

Bucky glowered in his direction and followed Natasha and Thor off the jet, ignoring the archer like he might ignore a piece of inconvenient lint on his shirt.

Clint gave Steve a mournful pout. “Those two wouldn’t know a joke if it bit them in the ass.”

“Oh,” Steve said, pulling out the thermal gloves he had stashed in the parka’s deep front pockets, “I wouldn’t say _that_.”

“He taped my gloves together while I was asleep again, didn’t he?” Clint sighed in despair. He pulled his gloves out of his pocket to check them over; they were indeed taped together, and expertly so. He would have a hard time getting them apart unless he had scissors, and even then it would be pretty easy to accidentally butcher them. When Bucky did something, he did it well.

“Well to be fair, you _did_ duct tape him to his chair last week when he was drunk. You kind of brought it on yourself,” Steve said.

He took pity on Clint and ripped the tape apart with his bare hands, holding his own gloves between his teeth. He tried not to chuckle at the way Clint looked a bit like a kicked puppy when he took his newly liberated gloves back.

 

 

Howard Stark was waiting for them on the impromptu airfield SHIELD had set up.

Clint and Steve delicately made their way down the frosty steel ramp. Steve kept an eye on Clint, moving slow despite the fact that he was wearing some of the best work boots available; it was one thing to have traction walking on cement, but on slippery metal all bets were off. The last thing they needed was someone breaking a hip before they even got where they were going. Everything was frozen here, not a thing untouched by winter’s grasp; ice glittered in the light no matter where Steve looked and he had to shield his eyes or else be blinded by the glare. There were already a couple of centimetres of snow on the ground despite the fact that it was early in the season. It wasn’t supposed to stay that way for long; the weather reports said that they should expect at least ten more centimetres within a few days, maybe even a foot or two if they were spectacularly unlucky. It was still early in the season, but up north there was no telling what the cold might drag in.

Clint was shivering away, looking suspiciously hurt by the fact that no one had warned him about the cold weather beforehand. He hadn’t had the pleasure of enjoying the biting cold in quite some time having been stationed in the desert and South America while the Avengers were unneeded.

Steve patted Clint on the shoulder and got a glare for his efforts. “You should have read the briefing.”

Thor scanned the almost barren landscape with Mjolnir dangling from his belt. He grinned widely. “This place reminds me of Asgard in summer,” he said, raising his hand to his brow to peer off into the distance. “The air is heavy with magic here. My brother would delight in such a place.”

“I’m sure,” Howard grumbled. He was dressed in a Stark International parka although it didn’t seem to be keeping him all that warm. He was wearing so many layers underneath it that he looked a bit like a disgruntled walrus out for a stroll. “I haven’t been up here in over thirty years, and it hasn’t changed one bit. There’s got to be something magical about _that_.” He rubbed his gloved hands together and waddled over to Steve, bumping sociably against his shoulder. “So what’s the deal here? Are we going to bag and tag things or what?”

“I’d say that’s highly unlikely. We’re just here for the handful of Succubi and Incubi who have come through the portal they found out here. No bagging and tagging necessary,” Steve said dryly.

Howard looked distinctly disappointed with the news. “Well that’s a bit of a letdown.”

Steve shrugged. “I’d take a letdown any day compared to what might be coming our way. The first Succubus mentioned something about a civil war, but she died before she could tell the doctors anything else. From what I gather, it was quite brutal – a war zone with no war.” Steve hoisted his backpack up onto his shoulders and strapped it in place. His shield he kept on his arm, ready in case of trouble. “I’m hoping they’re not going to bring their war over here.”

“A civil war amongst lust demons? Who would have thought it possible?” Howard snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. He brushed at his moustache, trying to knock away the light layer of ice that had built up there; despite his best efforts it stayed iced over. He gave up, scowling at his gloved hands. “I’ve seen them a few times you know, but they’ve never looked well… _warlike_ , at least not to me. They’re usually just running around buck-naked seducing anything with legs.”

“So they say,” Steve agreed. “SHIELD’s reports are usually pretty accurate, so we’ll just have to take their word for it I suppose.” Howard sighed. “Still, I don’t see how their Queen let this kind of thing happen in the first place.”

“What did you come out here for? No offence, but this seems a little out of the way for you. Weren’t you on vacation?” Steve asked. He gave Natasha the go ahead to start setting up their comm system, and then realized that Howard wasn’t paying attention to a word he was saying.

Howard was busy staring rather blatantly at Natasha’s chest as if she was walking around topless; Steve cleared his throat loudly and Howard’s eyes snapped back up to his. He shot Steve a suitably chastised look and cleared his throat, trying not to look in Natasha’s direction. Natasha’s face was remarkably blank as she tapped each GPS nodule to check that they weren’t going to crap out in the cold weather; she was the best with the finicky tech and could fix almost anything having picked up some of her skills while working undercover at Stark International. She had been assigned as Howard’s personal bodyguard afterwards at his request; she and Howard had gotten along much better after he had suffered a few ‘ _accidents’_ , although he apparently still didn’t know when to keep it in his pants. She still worked there when not assigned to the Avengers, just like Clint, who worked in the mail room on his off time to ‘make money’.

Natasha gave Steve a curt nod when she was finished with her inspections, hefting her SHIELD issue pack over her shoulders as if she was lifting a bag of marshmallows. They were all taking packs with them into the field; it was too dangerous to be caught without food or survival gear out here, even if they were only walking an hour or so to the north of their current position. Steve had been adamant about it and no amount if begging had been able to soothe him into submission. Clint had tried the hardest, but he seemed pretty happy now, seeing as how the place didn’t look even remotely friendly. Sure, the snow was nice and all, but this wasn’t New York. You couldn’t just stop in at the nearest Starbucks for a hot chocolate if you got a little chilly. It sort of looked more like the snowdrifts were trying to lure them in like a hungry spider might lure in a foolish fly.

“You’re right, I _was_ on vacation Steve,” Howard huffed in displeasure, picking up where Steve had left off as if he hadn’t just been caught ogling one of his fellow teammates. “But they called me in anyway, so here I am. Coulson claimed that they needed every brain they had, but who knows with them. Of course I’ve been to their world, so it’s not like I’m a stranger to their culture like you lot.”

“I guess they were really worried then. What’s your take on all this Doctor Banner?” Steve asked, turning to the shivering scientist.

Howard and Bruce fought like a pair of territorial feral cats when they worked together. They didn’t seem to care enough to stop even though the Hulk could crush Howard with his pinkie. Steve trusted that they would keep from ripping each other’s throats out long enough for them to finish the mission. Despite the fighting and mutual dislike, they were two of the best scientists to take into the field on short notice; both had thousands of hours clocked from missions and research camps combined. Steve wouldn’t have taken anyone else with him even if Fury had insisted. Just like Howard, Bruce hadn’t been all that happy about being brought along, but Steve hadn’t been willing to take the risk of not having the Hulk around on the off chance that something _big_ decided to come through the portal. He couldn’t blame the scientist for not enjoying being out in the field this time; if Steve had had the choice he would have been back at home wrapped in his blankets instead of out here freezing his giblets off.

Bruce busied himself with his pack, grumbling when his gloved fingers turned out to be too large to properly adjust the arm straps. Bruce sighed. “I think this is a bad idea Steve. Sure, Howard says he’s been there before and that it’ll be alright, but that’s not exactly a glowing recommendation.”

“Oh thank you,” Howard scowled, stuffing his hands in his armpits. “I appreciate that, really, I do.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Bruce said delicately pulling his gloves so that he could get his bag adjusted the way he wanted it, “I’m all for unbiased scientific observation, but I just don’t see how safe it’s going to be for _anyone_ wandering around in a civilization filled with demons who can hormonally induce lust in every living thing with no more than a _handful_ of pheromones. Call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure we’re going to end up feeding some horny succubus grapes for the rest of our lives when this is all said and done. Inter-dimensional wars will be the least of our worries if one of them gets their hands on the Hulk.”

“That’s why you’re staying out here with Howard to keep an eye on the portal,” Steve said, helping Bruce lift his pack up onto his back. The scientist nearly tumbled over from the added weight, but seemed happy to have the help; Steve steadied him with a hand, waiting for Bruce to slip his gloves back on. “The rest of us will be fine. As long as we’re careful and diplomatic, they should be okay with us being there.”

“Again,” Bruce said, giving Steve’s hand a gentle pat as if he were talking to his grandmother, “You’re basing this off of thirty year old information. Strange doesn’t have anything _new_ to say about the place. For all we know, they could have become _cannibals_ by now.”

“Oh please,” Howard snorted. “You’re such a worry wart. Maria – Their _Queen_ – is very good at keeping the rest of them in line. If they’ve started eating each other, it’ll be the stupid ones going first – the ones who don’t listen to her.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” Clint grumbled, looking over his shoulder at Bucky, “Because it doesn’t sound reassuring to me.”

“I don’t know. Use your imagination or something Barton. I don’t have time for idle banter,” Howard snapped. “I’ll have you know I was in Bermuda when they called me in! I had quite a few lady friends giving me –”

“Whoa!” Bucky shuddered. “Don’t need to know. Seriously. Don’t share the details.”

“Yeah. Don’t,” Clint agreed, disgust written all over his face. “The less I know about you the better.”

“You’re just jealous,” Howard sneered, starting up the nearest snowdrift in a huff. “When you get to be my age, you’ll be lucky to get laid unless you’re willing to pay someone for it. Of course _you_ won’t be able to afford the _pretty_ ones, so I guess you won’t _really_ know what I’m talking about. Although I suppose they don’t have to be pretty considering what they’re used for.”

“Spoken like a man with a wide range of experiences,” Bucky grumbled under his breath, “and I’m betting they were all very happy to see him gone.”

“I’ll bet,” Clint snorted, shaking his head, “Who’d want to sleep with somebody like him?” He and Bucky shared a laugh as Howard continued on ahead of the group, oblivious as usual to the fact that no one really liked him all that much. Steve rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment. He had heard enough filth from Howard Stark’s mouth over the years to be shocked by it now; the Howling Commandos had been just as raunchy.

The rest of the Avengers followed after Howard, plodding through the snow in each other’s footsteps muttering as they went. Steve kept a keen eye on the horizon as he walked watching for any sign of polar bears or other predators that might be sizing them up for a quick meal. He tried not to shudder with each step he took, forcing his panic away. The sound of crunching snow was haunting enough to make him seriously regret not taking SHIELD up on their offer of getting him a few hours of talking time a week with a proper councillor. It hadn’t been this bad before, at least not in the city.

There was just something about being in wide open fields of the white stuff that made his skin crawl. He took a deep breath in through his nose, hoping that he would be able to keep it together. He was going to have to do something soon if he couldn’t keep the shakes under control; he couldn’t continue to lead if he was going to have panic attacks. It wouldn’t be fair to the team to have to carry him along, nor would it be safe for them if he couldn’t keep them out of danger all because he was too worried about the drop in temperature. He noticed Thor watching him and forced himself to smile, lowering his shield a shade if only to keep from looking like he was going to take a swing at the snow like some kind of crazy person. “What’s up? See anything out there?”

Thor slowed to a crawl and even then he was still keeping pace with Steve despite the fact that he was a good four inches taller than him. He smiled at Steve, grabbing him by the shoulder. “The snow disheartens you Captain,” Thor said solemnly, giving Steve’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“I guess it does,” Steve agreed, not quite sure he wanted to be having a conversation about it quite so soon. He could barely talk to himself about it most days, and while he knew Thor was a kind-hearted man, he was still wary of making a bad impression even if they had already fought side by side for years. “I’ll just have to get over it.”

“You are a brave man Steve Rogers. Do not worry. You are not alone in your suffering although you may feel like you are. Many who have felt the kiss of winter often fear returning to it. My mother felt the same once when she was a child, and there is no shame in fear. Fear is what keeps you alive. It is nothing to be ashamed of, my friend, to hold fear in your heart for something that could cause you great harm. I myself spent many years frightened the same way as child. It is in us to persevere.” Thor thumped Steve on the back, grinning. “I consider that fear one of my greatest tests, for once it was gone I found myself stronger than ever. You will likely feel the same.”

“I sure hope so,” Steve said softly. He would have been offended if the words had come from anyone else, but he knew that Thor meant well even if he _had_ just compared Steve’s fears to that of a child’s. He had to remind himself that Thor, as a child, probably meant he was a few hundred years old at the time.

Thor’s smile brightened. “Fear not! I believe our journey is nearly over. The portal is but mere steps away. I can already see it from here.” Steve squinted off into the distance using the shield to block the sun’s piercing rays. Even with the serum, he couldn’t see that far ahead.

“The sooner we get this done the better,” Steve sighed. Then he could go back home and beat on a punching bag until the jitters passed. He adjusted his shield and trudged forwards with Thor walking serenely beside him.

 

 

As it turned out, the portal wasn’t the kind that they normally encountered; the problem wasn’t that it was some newfangled creation, it was that _this_ portal was a shimmering pink and green saucer of energy almost invisible to the naked eye; to make matters worse, it was also floating a good twenty feet above them.

No one had counted on the portal being horizontal and in the air and suspiciously, SHIELD had neglected to put that into their briefing; Steve wondered what else they could have missed if something _this_ big had fallen off their radar.

“Well this is just _useless_ ,” Howard muttered angrily, giving the nearest snowdrift a swift kick. “I swear to god, those idiots at SHIELD should get their goddamned eyes checked. This is not what they said we were here for!”

“Is it a problem?” Steve asked, already certain that it was.

“Yes Steve, it is a _fucking_ _problem_. None of what we brought with us is useful for aerial work – the change in altitude will make the readings go haywire the minute we get the damned thing off the ground. We just wasted a goddamned hour doing nothing,” Howard snarled, spinning around to viciously assault another snowdrift.

“Language,” Steve growled back.

Howard flipped him the bird.

“So much for our top of the line gear advantage,” Bruce snorted. “And SHIELD’s equipment isn’t going to be much better off. Fantastic.”

“Well let’s make the best of it, huh? There’s no sense in giving up just because some of the equipment doesn’t work.” Steve squinted up into the pink and green void, trying to see if he could spot anything familiar through it. Disappointingly, he couldn’t see anything other than his own distorted reflection; it would have been nice to get a peek at what was waiting for them on the other side.

“Oh, easy for you to say,” Howard snarled, trying to dislodge a clump of snow now caked into his boot’s seams. “You don’t have to _use_ or _build_ the equipment!”

“Oh lay off him Howard. It’s not his fault _your_ equipment doesn’t work,” Bruce said, adjusting his glasses. “I hate to say it Steve, but I think we’re out of options here. We can’t do any modifications here in the field unless someone doesn’t mind losing a few fingers to frostbite. It’ll take us a few days at the very least to recalibrate and build – not counting the time it takes for the new equipment to get shipped in.”

Howard scowled down at his boot. “We’ve got to reprogram the equipment from scratch too. I don’t think we even have the basic math for this.”

“You’re a genius, aren’t you?” Bucky growled impatiently. “Can’t you just figure it out as you go?”

“Get your head out of your ass Barnes,” Howard snapped. “I’m not a goddamned Burger King. We don’t just crap out special orders. This is magic we’re dealing with – before we can even dive into the math we need Strange’s information on the magical output, unless you’d like to see me and the entire area blow up.”

“I don’t think I’d mind all that much,” Bucky grunted, taking a step forwards. “I don’t think it would be much of a loss.”

“We have to go in then,” Steve said with a grimace. The snow he stood on was trampled and stained with blood and urine; the smell of copper and ammonia was faint, flaring up whenever the wind died down but it was still there. Someone had tried scraping the filth away before they had arrived as if to erase the fact that this was where someone had died. Steve sighed; he would let the horror come later. For now they needed to be strong. No matter what had happened here it was their duty to push on as far as they could. People were suffering and lives were at stake – that was all there was to it. They needed to act _now_ , not in two _weeks_.

“I get the whole urgency thing, but how are we supposed to get in there?” Clint asked, squinting at the portal. “I mean, I can shoot a grapnel up there, pull us up –”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “We don’t want to risk hitting anything living on the other side. We don’t want to accidentally kill someone. We’re just going to have to build a ladder and do this the old-fashioned way. Do we have anything to stack? Maybe some crates back in the jet?”

“No need my friend,” Thor chuckled. “I can throw you up into the portal and then fly in afterwards if that is what you wish. It is not far.”

“Why would you need to throw him? Couldn’t you just… I don’t know, shove him through?” Howard sighed, shaking his head. “Never thought I’d be saying _that_.”

“Nay, it would not work. This portal requires force to breach – anything else would merely smear the poor Captain against its surface,” Thor said. “The prolonged contact would most certainly kill him.”

“I guess getting tossed through our only option after all.” Steve nodded. “Alright. That should work.”

“Hold on a sec Steve,” Bucky snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. He eyed the portal suspiciously, drumming his fingers on his bionic arm. “What if that thing up there _doesn’t_ let things pass through without a fight? It might be a one way trip. Do you seriously expect us to just let ourselves be thrown into another dimension like a bunch of frozen peas?”

“No, I don’t expect you to do anything this dangerous,” Steve said. Bucky always had been his voice of reason, and he was glad that his friend hadn’t backed off and let things go without complaint; god knows the messes he could have gotten into if he hadn’t had Bucky standing by his side telling him off for being reckless. “That’s why I’ll go through first and scout things out. If I can come back, I’ll drop something through to signal that I’m alright and then Thor can start throwing the rest of you. If you don’t feel comfortable then don’t go.” Steve looked around at his team, making eye contact with each and every one of them. “I’m not going to ask you to risk your life for these people. This is your choice to make, not mine, but I for one am not going to sit around here watching anyone else die.”

“You’re crazy! At least let Stark throw a camera up there first or something,” Bucky protested angrily, his cheeks dusted with red. “Don’t be stupid!”

“Sure,” Howard scowled, “waste my good equipment by tossing it around like a _hacky sack_. That’s just lovely.”

“You’d rather we wasted _Steve_?” Bucky snarled, lunging forward and jabbing Howard in the chest. “I think he’s worth more than a few bits of _camera_ , you cheap motherfucker!”

“Relax Barnes! Good god! I was just kidding,” Howard roared back, slapping Bucky’s finger away. “I’m just not sure if anything will even _function_ up there. It’s a magical portal you moron! It might short out – I didn’t build this stuff with magic in mind you know!”

“You’re supposed to be a genius,” Bucky snapped back.

“I am,” Howard hissed in Bucky’s face. “I’m just not a goddamned _wizard_!”

“That’s enough!” Steve said; he didn’t even have to yell, Bucky and Howard simply snapped to attention, the arguments dying on their lips. It had been months since he had had a good yell. Once he might have missed it, but these days he found it calming to not be belting out orders all the time. He gave Howard a curt nod, and the elderly man started digging through his equipment looking for something suitable to throw through the portal.

Howard grumbled out curses under his breath the entire time but didn’t question Steve’s orders. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for even with everything packed in tight. Howard pulled a toaster sized piece of equipment from his bag, wresting with the good ten feet of cord attached to it as if he were wrangling a particularly unruly snake. He begrudgingly handed it all over to Thor, his face taking on a sour expression the moment the device left his hands. “Now be careful with that. The cord’s experimental and it’s worth more than you could afford to make in a lifetime. My team will have to pull overtime to get me another one,” Howard heaved a sigh, scrubbing at his iced over moustache again. “I’d rather not have them acting like cocky little shits if it ends up broken.”

“I will do my best to keep your creation safe,” Thor chuckled, wrapping the end of the cord around his hand. He tossed the device through the portal as easily as he might hurl a piece of popcorn at the television back home; the device flew into the air colliding with the portal, passing through without protest. The cord swayed in the breeze, still attached to Thor’s wrist. He gave the cord a great tug, dragging the device back into their world.

It was only through Natasha’s quick reflexes that it survived re-entry. She jumped and snatched it from the air, landing nimbly like a cat that had just caught its favourite flavor of bird.

Thor tossed her the cable. “Well done Lady Widow! You are impressive as always.” Natasha flashed him a rare smile, coiling the cable up in her hands.

“Yes, very nice Ms. Romanoff,” Howard purred, slinking towards Natasha. “I knew they kept you around for more than just your _delightful_ good looks.” He snatched the device away, looking it over with a critical eye; judging by the look on Natasha’s face, he was lucky he hadn’t gotten stabbed for his comment. Howard flipped the device over, intensely staring at the baseplates. There was no sign of damage on it that Steve could see, no trauma or scraping anywhere on the outer casing. In fact, in Steve’s opinion, it looked a little _nicer_ than it had before it had gone through the portal in the first place. Howard pulled off his gloves, tucking them neatly into his pockets. He prodded the casing, pressing his fingers to every side. “Well, I suppose it’s safe to say that portal leads to the same place I went all those years ago.” He gestured with the device, smirking. “It’s warm to the touch.”

“That doesn’t exactly prove anything,” Bruce said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, Bruce,” Howard sighed. “Grow up. I don’t need to _prove_ anything – Strange’s done my work for me.”

“Lazy,” Bruce coughed. Howard gave him a dirty look.

“It’s warm over there?” Steve asked, ignoring the squabbling. He set his pack on a patch that was the least covered in blood and supressed a shudder, praying that the bag wouldn’t tip over.

“Oh yes, it’s _paradise_ ,” Howard said dreamily. He licked his lips and then coughed weakly into the crook of his arm when he got a mouthful of snowflakes. He stooped down and tucked the device into his bag, his hands shaking from the cold. “They like their sun out there. Helps with the whole _nudity_ thing, I suppose. Don’t let the sun fool you into walking around naked though. There’s nothing worse than getting a sun burn on your ass. That’s why I didn’t stick around for long. Believe me Steve; you’re not going to need your parka in there unless you plan on sweating to death before you find your way to Court.”

“Court?” Steve raised an eyebrow. “I assume you mean they’re run by a royal family.”

“They’re ruled by a Queen. Her Majesty, Lady Maria Collins Carbonell, runs things on the other side. She’s a grand old dame – easy on the eyes and smart in the head to boot. She’ll listen to you if you’re humble. We had some fun times together – I guarantee you that she’ll remember me in a good light.”

“I’m sure a little name dropping won’t hurt,” Steve agreed with a chuckle, hoping that Howard was telling the truth and not just making things up to put himself in a better light.

“Her fool of a sister, Bridget-something-or-other is another story,” Howard grunted, fighting with his gloves. “She tried to take the palace by coup when I was there and Maria did not take kindly to it. Frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t have her sister hung from the rafters. Exile isn’t exactly in her vocabulary, so be careful. She loves her executions and your handsome mug isn’t going to be enough to dissuade her if she decides to whip out the gallows.”

“Why wasn’t any of this in the report?” Steve frowned. “Shouldn’t Fury and the others have known about this?”

“Oh I told them all about it. They must have cut it out for some reason,” Howard shrugged, “although I’ve no idea _why_. Seems like something pretty important to me.”

“Fury probably thought you were writing porn. _Dear Penthouse_ , I stepped into another world filled with naked _ladies_ –” Bucky grumbled.

“Heh, well it certainly had an ending worthy of that,” Howard sneered. “Let’s just say that the Queen repays her favors in a way you won’t ever forget. She’s very _bendy_.”

“Please. No details,” Clint shuddered, clapping his gloved hands over his ears. “ _No_ details!”

“And you’re sure that she’s not going to be angry that you left?” Steve sighed. This wasn’t the first time they had run into someone Howard had slept with; it wasn’t even the _twentieth_. The man had a knack for leaving women behind wherever he went, and he almost always ended up irritating the psychotic ones.

“She was very _satisfied_ ,” Howard drawled. “And when I left she wished me well. She helped me through the portal and that was that. They don’t marry up there, you know, not like we do. Not a whole lot of monogamy going on. They have children through donors. Fucking is like shaking hands to them.”

“What did I just say about _details_?” Clint wailed.

“Oh get over yourself. It’s a good piece of information. They adore the genetic diversity strangers bring. If the good Captain chooses to find himself someone to bang, then he’ll at least know that he won’t get run out of town if he doesn’t want to stick around the morning after.”

“Pfft.” Clint rolled his eyes. “The day Steve Rogers has a fling with some scantily clad demonic woman is the day I eat my own socks.”

Steve grimaced. “Alright, alright. Quit it you two.” One day he was going to have to sit them all down and have a talk about the fact that they thought he was some kind of celibate nun. “Is there anything _else_ that would be important to know?” He gave Howard the hairy eyeball, hoping that there wasn’t another racy tale on the tip of the man’s tongue. He did not want a bunch of awful mental imagery traveling along with him. It was bad enough knowing that he might have to go into nudist country all by himself. On second thought, maybe going all by himself _would_ be better. At least then he wouldn’t have to watch Howard propositioning anything that walked past him. God knows he had seen enough of it at the yearly Avengers Banquet.

“Well,” Howard purred, “you should probably know that they don’t really care about homosexuality there. They’re very open to _sharing_ , as it were. You’re alright with _that_ , aren’t you Captain?”

“It’s not a problem,” Steve said with a smile. Everyone liked to poke him about that these days. He had been asked if he had problems with ‘the gays’ by practically every reporter and interviewer alive. He had given them the same answer every time – he believed in freedom of individuality, choice and justice for all – and that included freedom of sexuality. He wished that they would actually _listen_ when he was speaking; it was irritating to have to keep repeating things over and over again.

“Oh?” Howard perked up, “it’s not?”

“It’s not. Never has been.”

“Steve Rogers swings _both_ ways? How come _I_ didn’t know about this?” Howard whined, glaring in Bucky’s direction. “You _people_ hide things from me. That’s not nice.”

“You’re the certified _genius_ Stark. I guess we just all thought that you’d figure it out on your own,” Bucky sneered. “It’s not our job to tell you who Steve likes to sleep with.”

Howard let out an angry growl, moving forwards as if to grab Bucky by the throat; he fell conspicuously silent and still when Natasha cleared her throat from directly behind him.

“Behave yourself,” Natasha murmured. Steve wasn’t surprised to see Howard’s face go sheet white.

If he had known Howard was going to have a temper tantrum, he would have just kept his mouth shut. He had thought that the offhand comments he had made over the years had let pretty much everyone he trusted know that he didn’t have a sexual preference, but somehow it didn’t surprise him that Howard hadn’t picked up on anything; Howard rarely cared for anything unless it had to do with himself. It always had been hard to get a good read on Howard. The guy didn’t seem to follow reason. “Alright, I think that’s _more_ than enough discussion about my sexuality for one day,” Steve said.

“Oh, on the contrary,” Howard grumbled. “I think we’ll be talking about this for years to come.”

“Well, you’re going to be having that conversation with yourself then. We’ve got things to do, remember?” Steve pulled his parka off, reluctantly giving his only source of warmth to Bucky.

“Pre-warmed!” Bucky flashed Steve a grin and tugged the warm jacket on top of his own thinner one.

The gust of wind that blew by next had Steve yelping in surprise. The drop in temperature was almost enough to send him back for his parka even with Bucky still in it; with the serum in his blood he could survive sub-zero temperatures, but that didn’t mean that he had to like them. He handed Bucky his shield to cover up his embarrassing jerk forwards, wishing at the same time that his teeth would stop chattering so damned loudly.

Bucky accepted the shield with a look of pure reverence; he held it clutched against his chest, his grin turning sombre. “You sure you want to leave this behind Steve?”

Steve nodded. “Strange said that Vibranium will interfere with the portal’s magic. I don’t really want to get ripped to shreds by taking it with me. Whatever happens next, I know you’ll take good care of it,” Steve said, giving Bucky a one armed hug.

“Are you sure about this Captain?” Thor asked with a frown. “If you go through, you may not be able to return easily. Heimdall might be able to offer assistance if that does indeed come to pass, but I would rather we not take the chance of losing you in the cosmos even temporarily.”

“I understand your concern Thor and really,” Steve said, barely able to hear himself over the sound of his chattering teeth, “I wish there was any other way, but this has to be done. There are people up there who need our help. Don’t worry about me. If I can’t come back through the portal, I’ll find the person who created it in the first place and convince them to send me back. Howard says that they’re not dangerous and I trust him.” Steve kneeled before anyone else could protest, nodding to Thor. “Now throw me.”

 

 

The portal wasn’t liquid; it felt as if he was immersed in sand and no matter how much he struggled he couldn’t get free of it. His skin burned and tingled on contact with the magic, but at least the cold was being slowly being sucked from his cells. Thankfully the portal didn’t seem to want to keep him. Steve smashed into a puddle of muddy water, settling on the ground with a wet thump. He choked out a breath, his lungs burning and pulled himself up, muddy water dripping from body and face. The air was hot and humid here, almost intolerably so. He peeled away the handful of leaves that had managed to get stuck to his face, cleaning himself up as best he could; the mud stuck around for the most part, but at least it didn’t look like he had been tarred and feathered anymore.

He looked around and saw that he was standing in the middle of a walled off courtyard. He expected to hear someone nearby considering how close he was to buildings, but he couldn’t hear anything aside from his own ragged breathing. Not even the birds were chirping, assuming of course that this place had birds to begin with. He took another look around, mapping out his location in case he needed to run through the area quickly.

The walls themselves were seamless, created from some kind of smooth white stone. There were trees pressed up against the inside of the walls at regular intervals, like someone had planted them there. They were covered with rough looking lilac coloured bark and large enough around the middle to climb if necessary; their orange and grey leaves stood out against the white stone behind them, beacons of colour amidst pale stone.

He turned back to where he had come through and swore loudly.

The portal he had so easily passed through had become nothing more than a disc of carved stone set in the swampy ground; wrist deep in muck, he felt around to see if he could get it to wake up. Nothing happened no matter how many times he prodded it. He wiped his mud-covered hands on the patch of grass beside him and sat down with a grunt, resting his elbows on his knees. Great. Now he was stuck here. Bucky had been right. God, he hated it when Bucky was right. When he got home, assuming of course that he did, Bucky was going to make him do all the housework for a _least_ a month as punishment for getting himself stuck. He pulled his cowl down around his neck as sweat streamed down his back. Howard had been right too. This place was _hot_.

After ten minutes in the sweltering heat he was forced to pull his uniform down around his waist; he would have preferred being clothed, but at least this way he wouldn’t melt into a puddle of goo. He tied the sleeves in a knot around his hip making himself a pseudo-belt thanking his lucky stars that his uniform was form fitting enough that it wouldn’t slide down on its own. At least this way someone couldn’t just yank it off of him with one well-placed tug.

His skin was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat by the time he was ready to move on, his hair slick against his forehead and plastered around his ears. Well, he thought as he marched through the courtyard looking for an exit, it sure as hell wasn’t snowing anymore.

 

He didn’t have far to go to find civilization. The portal courtyard was a lot closer to the city than Steve had expected it to be considering the lack of noise. Soon he was within sight of a pair of buxom young brunettes with long black pointed tails. Both of them gawked at him as if he was something they wanted to eat. He scratched the back of his neck and prayed that they weren’t about to leap onto him.

“Hi, my name’s Steve Rogers. I’m from Earth, and we’ve been getting –”

“Ooh! Earth!” The women cooed in unison cutting in. They batted their eyelashes at him, licking their lips when he opened his mouth to try and speak again. “We love Earth!”

Their smiles widened as a bead of sweat dripped from his neck down the middle of his chest; they cocked their heads to the side and watched the bead move, captivated. The air began to smell like cinnamon, the scent so concentrated it was hard to breathe.

Steve’s eyes watered; he sneezed again and again, wiping his nose on his bare arm with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

The women turned away from him scowling, their arms crossed over their voluptuous bare breasts. “This one’s _Immune_? Well that’s no fun. I was hoping for another child,” the one on the left grumbled, flipping her hair over her shoulder; Steve averted his eyes, and then remembered that they probably didn’t care about him staring at them. He looked back up, trying to appear confidant and unconcerned by the way they were naked.

“Well, it’s not like he’s all that. I’m sure we had a better looking one come through here years ago,” the one on the right mused, staring at her immaculate fingernails. “What was his name again?”

“H-something. It started with an H,” the one on the left moaned, clasping her face in her hands. “And he was so _dreamy_.”

“Yeah,” the one on the left murmured, “he sure was.”

Steve had been ignored by his fair share of beautiful women, but this was just plain rude. “Ma’am? I don’t mean to butt in, but can you take me to someone in charge? I need to talk with your Queen. We’ve had a bunch of injured people coming through your portal, and someone told us about a civil war going on–”

The Succubi cocked their heads to the side again. “Civil war?” they asked in unison.

“Yes. People are getting pushed through a portal and it’s –”

“Oh! You mean the _Cleansing_! Well why didn’t you say anything? It’s kind of _rude_ to stand around pretending that you don’t know what’s going on when you do,” the one on the left snorted angrily, baring her teeth at him.

“I didn’t know it was called a Cleansing, ma’am. This is the first I’ve heard of it,” Steve said, trying to be as calm as possible despite his growing irritation. “The people who came through the portal claimed that it was civil war, and we don’t exactly have any way of communicating with you to find out what that actually meant.”

The succubus on the right rolled her eyes at him. “She was only _joking_. Of course we know you don’t know.”

“Of course,” the succubus on the left laughed. “You don’t have to be such a big _baby_ about it.”

Steve barely resisted the urge to knock their heads together. He put on his brightest smile, ignoring the way the succubus on the right was now hungrily eyeing his nipples. “Can I please see your Queen?”

“I don’t know,” the succubus on the left said, tapping her finger on her pink, shimmering lower lip. Her tongue darted out, licking at the digit as if forgetting that it belonged to her in the first place. “She doesn’t really like visitors before dinner.”

“Oh, but for you,” the succubus on the right said, mirroring the one of the left, “I think she’ll make the exception.

 

 

Steve was led into the Royal Carbonell Castle flanked by succubus Left and Right. He was tempted to yank his uniform back up to his ears; if he hadn’t spent so many years doing war bond performances, he might have been having a panic attack right about now. There were eyes everywhere, and no matter where he looked he always found someone staring back at him like they wanted to start licking the skin clean off his body.

Left and Right hadn’t even bothered giving him their names. Judging by their conversation, no one really _had_ names here aside from the Queen and Royal Family so he tried not to feel too put out. He held his head up high and followed the still chattering pair into the Queen’s audience chamber, praying that the Queen would have enough common sense to at least listen to him before throwing him out.

Left and Right left him with a wave, prancing out the door while casting lecherous looks over their shoulders; he was glad that they were gone, but at the same time wished that they had stuck around a little longer than they had. It was almost as if they didn’t want to see their Queen for some reason, which struck him as odd considering how much they had been bragging about her on the way in. They had gone on and on her beauty, about how silky her hair was that day and how beautiful her eyes were. He wondered if they had meant for him to overhear them or it if the candied words had been meant for someone else entirely. He pursed his lips, hoping that Howard’s information had been right and that he wasn’t walking head first into a trap.

He sat down on a crushed velvet pillow that had been left out and crossed his legs, hoping that she wouldn’t take too long to come out and greet him.

The entire room was done up in purple and gold tapestries depicting images of things Steve had only every dreamt about; he flushed bright red, mortified by the way his cock stirred with interest.

He stared intensely down at the stones beneath his feet as he tried to get himself under control. He noted idly that each stone was stained different shades of the rainbow; there were runes carved around the edges, and each stone was distinctly different, no two alike. The room itself felt old – and well, for the lack of a better word – well-used. There was no throne around, but there was a square velvet pillow where it should have been. The pillow looked spacious enough for more than a few people to comfortably lounge on it without coming even close to the edge; he hoped that she wasn’t expecting him to join her on it.

A side door somewhere out of sight opened; the movement was whisper quiet, so soft he might not have heard it without his enhanced hearing. He turned on his pillow to face the woman who slipped into the room, putting on the polite but firm smile he used with all the dignitaries he met.

The Queen was a stunning dark haired beauty, her skin sun kissed but unblemished by the freckles. She swayed as she approached, her hair flowing around her as if it were made of water; her eyes held the same hunger Steve had walked past earlier, her smile just as devilishly frightening. She sat down on her pillow with her legs spread in a wide V, and then leered at him from between her knees. Steve kept his eyes locked on hers, fighting to keep his smile on his face.

“So, I hear you’re from Earth,” she said, licking her lips, “and you’ve come to talk with me about the Cleansing?”

“Yes your majesty.” Steve bowed his head politely. It never hurt to throw in a few bows. “My name is Steve Rogers, and I’ve been sent by SHIELD to ask for your help dealing with the current situation.”

“SHIELD, huh? I assume that’s the body that rules you?” she asked with a yawn. “It sounds boring.”

“We’re more protectors than leaders, your majesty.”

“Ah,” she said, pursing her lips. “So you’re not particularly _powerful_ then, are you?”

“It depends on what you mean by powerful,” Steve murmured. “Our team and SHIELD keep the planet safe from harm. We’re very good at what we do.”

“You protect the entire planet, huh? Well, I suppose that’s _something_ at least. So you’re here to talk about the Cleansing….”

“Yes, your majesty,” Steve said. “We’d really appreciate your help.”

“Oh I don’t mind lending a hand,” she said earnestly, sitting up. She scooted forwards to the edge of the velvet pillow and wrapped her arms around her knees. “What’s the problem? I’d hate for Earth to think badly of me.” She wiggled her toes, smiling at him a little more shyly now. He couldn’t tell whether the cutesy bit was an act or not; he hoped she wasn’t trying to mess with his head.

“We’ve been having people coming through the portal in your courtyard,” he said carefully. “They’re pretty badly wounded your majesty, and to be frank, some of them aren’t making it out alive.”

“They aren’t?” The Queen smiled even harder, the tips of her pointed canines peeking over her lower lip. “That’s a _real_ shame.”

Steve tried not to outright frown at her, his smile twisting into a grimace; he had expected some kind of righteous anger on her part, but he hadn’t expected her to be happy about it. Who wouldn’t be angry if the people they were lording over decided to rebel against them? He supposed that it wasn’t really much of a shock considering what Howard had said about her; at least she hadn’t been executing the rebels and dumping their bodies through the portal.

She stretched her hands out over her head, seeming to enjoy the way her breasts jiggled at the sudden movement. “It’s part of the ritual. Betrayers must be _Cleansed_. You can’t mean to say that you’ve never heard about this? I talked about it with great length with the one you call Fury when I saw him not ten days ago.”

“Director Fury came thought the portal?”

“Oh no!” The Queen laughed shrilly. “You misunderstand. We are creatures of dreams. We can transcend the barriers of our world through sleep in order to communicate and breed with whoever we find on the other side. Your Director was quite sweet. I enjoyed him immensely, although if I were not already with child from _that_ union, I would have taken you in his place. You are far more _fetching_.”

“I take it that he didn’t know what happened was uh…”

“ _Real_?” She supplied, leaning forwards again. Steve nodded stiffly. “No,” she murmured, examining a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face. She toyed with it for a moment, winding it around her finger to create a perfect ringlet and then let it drop in disinterest. “I don’t believe he did. If he believed it was real, I don’t think you would be here right now. Do you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Steve agreed. He added the new information to a list in his head which was now labeled: Things I Didn’t Really Want to Know and filed it away for future use. If Fury was going to have a kid, he would probably want to know about it someday. Steve opened his mouth to speak again and choked on the scent of cinnamon in the air. He couldn’t help the sneezes that snuck out, each one more forceful than the last. He begrudgingly wiped his nose on his arm for what felt like the hundredth time, wishing that he had had the presence of mind to bring a handkerchief with him before he had set out. When he looked up from his arm, the Queen was staring at him in astonishment.

“You’re Immune!” she crowed, clapping her hands together in glee.

“Immune?” he asked in confusion. He remembered Left and Right having said something similar, but unlike the Queen they had seemed fairly disappointed by it. Did it have something to do with their powers? Maybe with that strange smell?

“Yes, darling,” the Queen sang, “it means that you are _immune_ to our magic.”

“I see.” He was pretty sure that Doctor Erskine hadn’t planned for _that_ to be part of the Super Soldier Serum; at least this way he might stand half a chance against them if it came down to a fight.

“Immunity is a rare gift. Not many humans can resist our lust magic. In fact, I’d say that you’re one of the first to survive past the age of ten.” She scowled at him, suddenly seeming annoyed. “And that just takes the cake, doesn’t it? The first one around who can resist and I’m already with child! How unfair!” She slapped her hands against the pillow beneath her, furious. “And to make matters worse, you’re here during a Cleansing!” She let out a huffed breath, blowing the ringlet from her face. “You’ll just have to be the Escort then I suppose. The rules are rules after all. Fair is fair.” She sighed dramatically, gritting her teeth. “They are allowed their voice, and she is allowed her chance to convince me to stop the Cleansing.” She stood up, stretching like a cat; her tail appeared from where it had been hiding, slinking out from under her as if just waking up. It wrapped itself around her thigh as she stared thoughtfully at Steve, the spade-shaped tip caressing her flesh like a lover might. “You will go to her and offer her the chance to speak her mind.”

“I will?” Steve blinked. “I’d love to help you your Majesty, but I don’t really understand what you’re talking about.”

“Oh!” She flushed, looking embarrassed. Her tail unwound itself slowly. “Yes, I suppose you don’t really know what’s going on, do you.”

“No, I really don’t.”

“You will go to my sister Maria and speak to her on my behalf. Offer her the chance to use her voice – to come here without punishment, pain or fear of death and in return, _if_ she agrees to my conditions and _I_ agree to forgive her, the portal will be closed and you will be sent back to Earth unharmed. Do the conditions please you?” She stepped closer, leaning down in front of Steve’s face; her tail was like a hot brand against his neck, the tip casually caressing his jugular, ready to stab into his flesh if she decided that she didn’t like his response.

“You’re not Maria?” Steve grunted.

“No, my dear.” She smiled toothily at him. “I am not. I am Brigitta. Now do you accept the conditions or not?”

“What about the others – the ones who are on Earth now? What’s going to happen to them?” Steve felt the tail tense. The muscles in his neck strained in response as it coiled tighter; the sweetness to her left was gone leaving only bitterness in its wake. “The others?” The queen snapped. “What _others_?”

“I’m talking about the ones you already sent through the portal. The Succubi and Incubi trapped on Earth,” Steve said.  They may not have been Steve’s people, but he wasn’t going to leave them trapped so far away from home. He knew what that was like, how painful it was to be separated from friends and family – to be thought of as dead. “They deserve to come back here. This is their home too.”

The Queen let out an exasperated hiss, the tail coiling tighter around Steve’s throat; he didn’t move, locking eyes with her despite the fact that he was running out of oxygen. It twitched against him as he choked, the tip tapping against his throat in time with his heartbeat like a sullen conductor.

“Fine,” she said as she stepped back. Her tail released him with whip-like crack; his skin burned where it had been like he expected any rope burn might, but it was a tolerable sort of burn considering he could breathe again. There was likely an angry red band around his throat from where the tail had been clutching at him but he doubted that it would last long enough to be a problem. She didn’t seem to even notice what she had done to him. “Your _others_ will be returned to their home to live out their days in peace, provided of course that you fulfil the requirements. She must speak, agree to come here and I must agree to accept her back. Do you understand the terms then? Is the contract _acceptable_ now?” she growled.

“Yes Your Majesty. It is.” Steve rubbed at the raw patch of skin on his throat.

“Then go, and stop wasting my time with your glorious flesh!” She whirled, returning to her cushion, and sprawled lazily on her back. She rolled over almost instantaneously, her tail wrapping around her thigh again as if to console her. “Oh, and just so you know,” she said, gesturing for him to move closer.

He knelt beside her reluctantly, watching her tail to make sure it wasn’t going to dart out and grab him again.

“You may be attacked by my sister’s brethren – after all, they aren’t exactly as tied up as my sister. They don’t want peace, and they don’t think for themselves. They want victory and now you are just another thing standing in their way. They will do whatever it takes to win, so you had better be prepared to fight for your life.”

“I’ll keep that in mind your Majesty,” Steve said. He stood up, dusting off his knees and headed towards the door. If they were going to attack him, then they were going to be in for a few surprises of their own.

 

 

Left gave Steve a map on the way out of the castle, telling him that it was the only way to get in to see the Old Queen; Right smiled and waved goodbye, going back to groping Left from behind as he walked away. It wasn’t the best send-off he had ever had, but at least no one had tried to make eyes at his nipples again.

The map they had given him wasn’t the best. It was a piece of wax covered paper with lines gouged into it that _might_ have been roads; there were some other strange markings plonked down at what seemed like random too, but since there was no key in the corner where he would have expected to see one, there was little he could do to read it. Normally he was an expert at reading maps, even the non-traditional kind but this one had him stumped.

It was safe to say that the triangular shapes marked out by notches in the waxy coating were trees, but nothing else looked even remotely familiar. He had read maps drawn out by men on battlefields with broken down hands that made more sense. Part of him wondered if they had given him the map as some kind of elaborate joke, just to see what he would do with it. He hoped that it wasn’t the case, but in all honesty, he wouldn’t have put it past them.

He made his way along the road out of town, searching every few feet in case someone had been nice enough to leave something behind for him to follow; he hadn’t really expected to see _signs_ per say, but a few stone markers or maybe a few posts by the road would have been nice. Unfortunately there was little to see except open road and running forest alongside it and nothing of use no matter how far he walked or how low to the ground he searched.

He continued to follow the road until it came to an end a few hours away from town. The forest had taken over what was left of the roadway, swallowing everything up along the edges; it didn’t seem to be encroaching on the road itself though. He peered at the map, and noticed a set or parallel lines at the end of a slightly deeper indentation in the wax. Could that be the road he was on now? If he looked at it that way things made a bit more sense. If this was definitely where the road ended, then he had a starting and ending point to work with. At least the lines were matching up now. He managed to find what he thought might be a patch of forest drawn on the left-hand side of the map after a few minutes of comparing landscape to squiggled imprints; he was grateful to find that much, but he didn’t expect it to his journey to get any easier.

The pathway he stumbled upon next didn’t look like much, just a gap in the trees a bit wider than it should have been, but it was good enough for him. He stepped off the road, diving head first into the unknown at a slow trot, batting away branches that got too close to his face, flicking leaves and burrs off of his uniform and bare skin whenever he spotted them. He was glad that he had kept the bottom half of his uniform on now that he was mucking about in the woods; he could just imagine where those burrs would be if there wasn’t a layer of fabric between them and his groin.

 

He followed the tree line, peering at the map every few seconds in a vague attempt at plotting out his course. It didn’t help much, but at least it made him feel like he was doing something other than wandering around like a complete idiot. He froze, smelling something in the air and sneezed violently, nearly knocking himself over. He wiped his nose on his arm. Damn it! It was that same smell as earlier, a crisp burst of cinnamon that seemed to be hovering in the air. He tensed and looked around suddenly very glad he had arrived in the Queen’s Courtyard instead of out in the middle of nowhere. At least Left and Right had had the courtesy to show him a bit of their magic, even if they had been trying to use it on him at the time. He didn’t know the kind of range they could get with their spells but at least he _did_ know that it wouldn’t be a projectile lobbed at his head; sex magic, he reminded himself wearily was probably all related to hormones, just like Bruce had theorized. Bucky was going to have a field day with this when he found out about it. On second thought, maybe this part could be his little secret.

He looked around for something he could use as a weapon but found the surrounding area clutter free, as if someone had done some landscaping in their spare time. There wasn’t a _single_ thing around of use unless he wanted to attempt to attack someone with a blade of grass and a handful of dirt; strictly speaking, it wasn’t exactly impossible to win a fight that way, but he would have preferred something a little more substantial to hold in his hands. He wished that he hadn’t had to leave his shield behind.

Leaves rustled.

The underbrush swayed back and forth.

Steve prepared for battle.

An Incubus strolled out of the bushes whistling a jaunty tune, hips swinging in time with the music; he was shorter than Steve by a few inches, although he didn’t seem to notice and he was completely naked. It was impossible not to get an eyeful of the man’s flawless olive coloured skin; Steve couldn’t seem to look away even as the stranger started getting closer and closer. He was dimly aware that he was supposed to be getting ready to defend himself in case of attack but somehow that didn’t seem as important anymore.

The stranger's smile was so cocky he could have stopped traffic with a single glance. His hair was dark brown and cropped short around his ears. It was sticking up all over the place like he had just woken up and crawled out of bed, but that didn’t make him look any less stunning; he had a well-maintained Vandyke and moustache and while it should have looked out of place considering the state of his hair, it seemed instead to suit him as if he had been born with it.

He looked Steve over just the once, his brown eyes widening when he noticed that Steve was half dressed, and then sauntered up to him. The man’s lips curled into a sensual smile.

Steve was hit by the strangest sense of _Déjà vu_. He opened his mouth to ask just what was going on but couldn’t bring the words out.

The man reached out and offered Steve a hand. “Why hello there _gorgeous_! What’s your name?” the man purred, grinning from ear to ear.

Steve wanted to swoon. His knees felt like someone had replaced them with jello; he had never felt like this before, even with Peggy. The smile on the man’s face was so _charming_. This was the kind of guy he could see strutting around in expensive clothing, with dames on each arm; the kind of guy who would never have the time for a nobody like Steve. He had the urge to drop down onto his knees so that he could –

Steve sneezed violently and his mind cleared. He blinked repeatedly, giving his head a great shake when his vision refused to clear all the way. His eyes watered profusely; he tried to wipe at them belatedly realizing that he had somehow managed to offer the stranger the hand he was trying to use.

“You’re name?” The man repeated, taking Steve’s hand firmly in his own. He lifted Steve’s hand up to his lips and kissed it, smirking up at Steve. “Tell me your name _darling_. I’d love to be screaming it later.”

Steve punched him in the face.

In hindsight, that _probably_ wasn’t the best reaction to a question about what his name was, even if said question had included one of the corniest come-ons Steve had heard in a long time. It was just that he hadn’t been hit on so explicitly since he had sold War Bonds, and even then at least the flirts had been wearing _clothes_. Of course, he hadn’t meant to hit the guy so _hard_. He had meant it as more of a warning than anything else and yet he was left with twist in his gut, guilt eating him up when he realized what he had done. Who punched naked people in the _face_? It wasn’t like the guy had a weapon on him somewhere – he was buck-naked! Oh god, what had he done?

The man recoiled in shock holding his nose, a trickle of blood dribbling down onto his upper lip from his nostrils. “What the hell is your problem buddy?” he hissed, tears of pain streaming from the corners of his eyes. “All I did was say hello!”

Steve moved forward without thinking, taking the man by the chin to inspect the damage, praying that he hadn’t cracked the poor guy’s skull; the man was strangely pliable in his hand, his face warm and slick with tears and blood. Steve wanted to punch _himself_ in the face for hurting the poor guy. What the hell had he been _thinking_? This wasn’t some Hydra agent – this was a civilian! “I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to hit you so hard – I thought you were trying to attack me, and I just – If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

“Oh. My. God,” the man said. He wiped at his nose, the blood vanishing as if at the push of a button. “You’re _human_.”

Steve stared at the man, dumbfounded. He gently prodded the man’s nose and was surprised to find that everything was back the way it had been before his punch had landed; the guy didn’t even wince or shy away from the touch, he just continued to stare at Steve excited by his discovery.

“You are, aren’t you?” The man insisted, going up on his toes to get a better look at Steve’s face. He was still half trapped in Steve’s grasp, but it didn’t seem to dampen his enthusiasm any.

Steve let his hands drop to his sides, hoping that it would get the guy to back up a bit, but not only did the stranger _not_ back up, he instead got even _closer_. Steve’s face flushed. The man nose was an inch away from his, their chests so close they were almost touching; he resisted the blind urge to cover up as the stranger’s eyes analyzed every last bit of him. He was struck with the sudden urge to press his lips to the man’s throat, to slid his hands down between his legs – wait. _What_?

“I’m looking for Maria,” Steve said, pulling his mind out of the gutter. He had a job to do after all, and even if this man was the most sexual thing on legs alive, that didn’t mean he could stop working. He had a job to do after all and – _wait_. He had just thought that already. He shook his head, taking a step back from the stranger, and sneezed again.

“Tony,” the man said, reaching out and grabbing Steve by the hand again despite having already been brained for doing the exact same thing. The handshake was fierce, the grin on his face back in full force. “I’m Tony. And what’s your name sweetheart?”

“I'm Steve,” Steve muttered. He sneezed again and was mortified when the spray caught Tony in the shoulder. “Oh geeze. Sorry. I think I’m allergic to that smell or something.”

Steve sniffled. He had thought the serum had made him allergy free, but apparently that didn’t apply to intergalactic allergies; he made a mental note to talk with Bruce about it later.

Tony’s eyes grew impossibly wider. His tail snaked out from behind his back and wrapped itself around Steve’s waist and leg. It gave Steve’s thigh a friendly squeeze; it was much longer than of the other tails Steve had seen, larger than even the Queen’s tail.

Steve stared at Tony’s tail, mortified, unsure whether or not he should be offended by the fact that it was busy groping him. Was this some kind of Incubus introduction thing? Like shaking hands?

“You’re _immune_!” Tony whooped. He clasped his hands in front of his face, shuffling forwards until he was stomach to stomach with Steve. “And you’re _human_. This is _perfect_.” He grabbed Steve by the arm and whirled around, dragging him into the bushes as easily as he might pull a chair with wheels.

Steve couldn’t bring himself to stop moving, trapped in the grasp of Tony and his tail. He bumbled along feeling far clumsier than normal, his thoughts turning hazy. The bushes parted in front of them as if they had been tugged at by invisible strings, revealing the entrance to a rather impressive looking stone house; it was made from the same white stone that had been used to make the portal courtyard’s walls, each brick perfectly set in place. The bricks were so precisely shaped it was hard to believe that anything other than a machine had done the work; there was nothing hand carved here, and if there was it had to have been done by someone with a _very_ steady hand. This seemed to be Tony’s home because he didn’t bother knocking. He simply threw the door open and yanked Steve inside, shutting the door behind them with his tail.

Steve squinted in the darkness trying to make out where he was with little luck; he felt Tony’s tail slip away and was surprised to feel a pang of loss. “Don’t panic. I’m going to turn on the light, hold on,” Tony said from somewhere nearby.

Steve barely had time to lift his arm up to shield his eyes before the room was flooded with bright white light. “Is that electricity or magic?” Steve asked, wincing.

“It’s electricity,” Tony grinned. “I made it myself.”

Steve looked around, trying to get his bearings so that he didn’t accidentally step on anything important. The only bits of furniture around were a large round pallet piled high with blankets in the centre of the room and a solid looking desk set off in the corner. The desk was a complete disaster zone, covered with books and papers of all kinds, everything scattered about haphazardly amidst the remains of glass ink bottles and half-broken quills; the space around the desk was a mess of ink splattered doodles and scrap metal. Stacked wooden boxes filled with what looked like spare parts of some kind sat against the walls all around the room. Clockwork machines in various stages of completion gathered in a circle beside a small oval shaped window, its curtain still drawn.

“What is all this?” Steve asked as he was walked backwards towards the pallet. He let himself be pushed down, blinking drowsily as the ceiling abruptly came into view. “Tony? What are you doing?” He tensed when he found himself with a lapful of naked Tony. “Hey!”

Tony reached down and put a finger on Steve’s lips, shushing him. “Relax, I’m not going to seduce you. I just want to talk.”

“And sitting on me is doing that _how_ , exactly?” Steve growled, pushing Tony’s finger away; when Steve licked his dry lips after he could taste salt and oil where Tony had touched him. He would have expected Tony to taste like strawberries and chocolate, not grease. It seemed like an odd combination for someone whose life should have revolved around seduction. Wait – why was he thinking about what Tony tasted like?

“You’re a human, right?” Tony murmured, unperturbed by Steve’s irritation.

“Yes. I think we have established that I’m a human. Can I get up please?” Steve pushed against Tony’s thighs to try and dislodge him. Tony’s tails slithered around his hip and wrapped itself around Steve’s arm as he tried to wiggle his way to freedom. It tugged gently at Steve as Tony continued to talk as if trying to get him to pay attention.

“I was working on a mechanical heart before you came,” Tony said solemnly. He started drawing on Steve’s chest with his thumb, every scratchy move sending shivers down Steve’s spine.

“A mechanical heart?” Steve frowned in confusion. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Nothing. That’s not the point. The point is this,” Tony squirmed as he tried to get more comfortable, his hands moving to Steve’s shoulders so that he could brace himself as he moved.

Steve flushed bright red when Tony’s buttocks pressed flush against his bare stomach. He desperately tried to ignore the fact that the man’s cock was now squashed quite comfortably against his belly.

“The point is that I have gone as far as I can with the limited resources and electricity I have access to here. You can’t hook a clockwork heart up to a waterwheel after all. It’s just not feasible in the long run. Sure, I could try and enchant something, but let’s be fair here, enchantments run out and they’re unpredictable at best when I cast them. I’d much rather have a clockwork heart powered by something a little more dependable and replaceable,” Tony drawled.

“Again, what do I have to do with any of this?” Steve grumbled, shoving Tony backwards and off of his belly.

Tony sprawled on his back, rolling in the rough bedding. “The point is that you are human, and therefore have access to human engineering – and I, want access to that information.”

“You want me to do what?” Steve snapped, sitting up. He found himself knocked backwards despite his best efforts with Tony plastered against his front, his lips close enough to Steve’s that they were almost kissing.

Tony grabbed Steve by the shoulders, shaking him. “I an engineer – I want your technical information. Come on – you can’t pretend that you don’t know anything! You made it here _somehow_! Nothing except for other worldly energy could have activated the portal from your end, so spill. How did you do it? Did you build a machine? Is it here? Can I see it?”

“I didn’t build anything!” Steve protested, managing to dislodge Tony again with a well-placed elbow to the gut. He crawled out of the blanket nest and struggled upright; Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s thighs, holding on for dear life.

“Come on! You can’t come in here and not say anything! That’s not fair! I’ll show you mine if you show me yours!” Tony said.

Steve shook Tony off of his leg, slowly backing up as soon as he was free. This man, he decided, was completely bat-shit crazy. “Look. I don’t want any trouble. I just need to find Maria so that I can give her a message from the Queen.”

Tony bolted upright, his eyes glinting. He jabbed Steve in the ribs, making him wince. “You’re one of her spies? You came through the portal, and you choose to work for _her_ , the _creature_ who stole my mother’s throne?” He hissed. “I knew you were no good!”

“I’m not spying for anybody!” Steve roared, prodding Tony in the ribs in retaliation. “I’m just trying to get a bunch of injured Succubi and Incubi sent back to _this_ world so that they don’t end up freezing to death in _mine_!”

“Oh, well that makes it alright then, does it?” Tony said, standing up on his tip toes. He shoved his face in Steve’s glaring at him. “That makes up for the thirty years of us being stuck here in the woods like animals!”

“I don’t even know what you’re _talking_ about! I’m from another _planet_!” Steve snapped.

Something changed in Tony’s eyes; Steve couldn’t say quite what it was, but it definitely wasn’t something bad. Tony’s mouth was wet and hot against his, the kiss urgent and demanding. His fingers tangling in Steve’s hair tugging Steve closer, making him stoop so that he had a better angle to work with. Steve couldn’t help the moan that escaped his lips. He knocked Tony onto his back and kissed him long and hard, his mind swirling as each new kiss seemed to get better and better. He didn’t know what had brought it all on, but for the moment he could have cared less. Tony’s hands were everywhere, his tail exploring every bit of Steve’s body. They kissed for what seemed like hours, breaking apart only when Steve found himself gasping for air; Tony’s lips were bruised and pink, his pupils blown wide. Steve couldn’t stop himself from rubbing the pad of his thumb over the Incubus’ lower lip.

“What the hell just happened?” Steve gasped, sucking in a laboured breath.

“I don’t know,” Tony panted. “Why are you – _hey_!”

Steve stood up, adjusting his pants where a rather impressive bulge was trying to make its presence known. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, horrified that he had started kissing a complete stranger. Tony and the Queen had said that he was immune, but was he? Was this some kind of sick magical game? He backed up, holding a hand out in front of him for defence. “Look, just stay back, alright? I don’t want any trouble.”

Tony looked hurt. “What’s wrong? I’m not good enough for you?”

“I’m not here for sex. I’m here to find Maria so that I can escort some injured and dying people home,” Steve said, the flush finally leaving his cheeks. “I don’t know what your beef is with the Queen, but frankly, it’s none of my business. All I want is for the Cleansing to stop, and for the exiled demons to go back to their homes. Now, can you tell me where Maria is or not?”

“I can do better than tell you. I can take you there,” Tony said, sitting up. “But you have to do me a favor in return.”

Steve scowled. Apparently there was a cost to _everything_ in this world. He weighed his options carefully using the time to calm down, waiting for his cock to get the message; he had to force himself to stand still so that his pants wouldn’t rub against him. What was he going to do now? He could either take Tony up on his offer, and let the man take him to Maria for a price, or he could go back out into the forest and try and find her himself. He felt at his pockets for the map, wondering if he could find the house on it as a landmark. It might not have been a road sign, but it might just give him an idea of how big the world was. He froze. He felt at his pockets again, double checking every last fold of fabric, even checking his sleeves in case he had tucked it away there by accident.

It was no use.

The map was gone.

Tony smirked at Steve, his tail swishing beside him. “So, do we have a deal or not Steve?”

Steve wanted to scream in frustration. The map may have been hard to follow, and without it, he was as good as blind.

“Deal.”

 

 

Tony whistled, leading Steve through bush after bush, scampering along logs and through tall grass that should have sliced open his bare flesh; he was a lot more nimble than Steve had suspected, and a hell of a lot more chatty. Steve watched him carefully, sure that something bad was about to happen, but nothing ever did. Tony didn’t seem to notice his hesitation. He chattered away about engineering, asking Steve a thousand and one different questions about what Earth was like and what the technology was like for the average person. Steve responded as best he could, telling Tony all about pizza ovens, computers and television; he felt a little bit like he was talking to himself when he had first woken up from the ice, every detail a new adventure.

Tony listened to everything Steve said completely entranced; he nearly walked into a tree when Steve started tell him about how electricity was available to anyone as long as they could pay the bill. It hadn’t been all that shocking to Steve when he had first heard it considering they had had electricity in the in his day and age, but to Tony it was like Steve had just told him meatballs could grow wings and deliver the mail.

“You’re telling me,” Tony said, his eyes wide like saucers, “ _anyone_ can use electricity? You don’t have to build _anything_?”

“We have companies in charge of making and selling power back home. All the buildings come wired into the electrical grids.”

“So where do they keep the wires? Don’t the houses light on fire?”

“The wires run in the walls, just like the sewage and water pipes do. They’re insulated to keep them from electrocuting someone.”

“And your lighting devices are plugged in directly? Do they have switches?” Tony asked, sounding thrilled.

“We have light switches too,” Steve smiled. “We have bulbs that we screw into the fixtures that are connected to the grid. For the rest of the stuff that needs electricity to run, you just need to plug things into the wall sockets.” Steve shrugged. “The internet is pretty much the same thing - just like cable or satellite television. All you need is a credit card and the receivers and you can get signal anywhere.”

“Credit card? I assume that’s a form of payment of some kind.” Tony led them through a circle of ankle high stones, expertly avoiding them. He tapped three with his tail as if in afterthought. The piece of paper clutched in his tail’s grasp flapping in the wind as he spun around, drawing Steve’s attention.

“Hey!” Steve yelped, making a dive for the paper. “That’s mine!”

“Is it?” Tony grinned, running past the rocks and into the clearing in front of them. “Come and get it back then honeybear.”

Steve ran after him, weaving around rocks and logs; Tony ran ahead of him, his tail whipping back and forth amidst the grass. The incubus was a heck of a lot faster than Steve had expected, leaping over anything that got in his way.

Steve increased speed; Tony put on the breaks. They collided with an audible oomph going head over heels into the grass landing in a crumpled heap with Tony pinned underneath Steve’s bulk.

Tony slapped at Steve’s shoulders, coughing as he tried to get the air that had been knocked out of him back into his lungs. “God,” Tony wheezed, pushing harder at Steve’s shoulders, amazed that he couldn’t dislodge his unexpected passenger. “You weigh a ton!”

Steve spat a piece of grass out of his mouth. “Well if you didn’t run off, I wouldn’t have crashed into you.”

Tony winced, lifting himself up against Steve to fish his tail out from underneath him. He blew on it, scrubbing at the grass and dust stuck to it with a sullen look on his face. “Well you should be more careful.”

“Careful? I should be more _careful_? Maybe you shouldn’t steal things that don’t belong to you!” Steve growled.

Tony snorted loudly, his breath hot against Steve’s face. “I wasn’t stealing it, I was borrowing it! There’s a difference!”

“This isn’t a game! There are people dying out there!”

“Oh, and you think I don’t know that?” Tony sneered, pushing at Steve’s chest again. “Get off of me!”

“Give me the map,” Steve said through his teeth, “and I’ll get off.”

“Grow up,” Tony hissed, lifting himself up so that he was right up in Steve’s face. “You’re not all human, are you? You don’t really smell like one now that I think about it. What did they do? Make you out of spare parts and forget the brain?” He gave Steve a good sniff, the tip of his nose rubbing up against Steve’s throat; Steve refused to move, forcing himself to stay where he was even though he wanted nothing more than to jump up and walk away. He bristled as Tony’s words ate their way through his defences, tearing at the walls he had put up so many years ago. He wasn’t a lab experiment! He was Steve Rogers – all that had changed was the packaging!

Steve reacted without thinking, the words falling from his mouth with venomous ease. “You’re telling me to grow up? You’re the one that needs to grow up Tony. You’re nothing but a spoiled brat obsessed with engineering! You’re pathetic!” It felt like he was listening to the argument instead of participating in it; he hadn’t been this angry in ages.

“I am not pathetic!” Tony snarled, shoving at Steve again, his face contorting with rage. “Shut up!”

“Oh, I see,” Steve said, getting up, “You can dish it but you can’t take it, is that it?” He turned away, walking back the way they had come. “She’s probably not even out here. This is probably just you taking me on a wild goose chase so you can harass me. I don’t know why I even bothered agreeing to follow you in the first place. You’re obviously yanking my chain.”

Tony scrambled up from the grass, grabbing Steve by the arm. “I’m not some kind of liar!”

“Oh? Then prove it,” Steve said, pulling his arm free. “Take me to Maria and help me do my job instead of screwing around. People are dying every second we spend out here arguing. Your people have already died in my world. Or do you not care? Is that it?”

Tony looked hurt. “What the fuck do you think I am, some kind of monster?”

Steve sighed aloud. “Tony,”

“Well good luck talking with her when you find her,” Tony snapped, shoving past Steve. “Here.” He threw the map over his shoulder, his tail flicking it towards Steve before it could hit the ground; it hit Steve in the face and he staggered backwards as if he had been punched by Thor. He pulled the map free, smoothing the wrinkled paper out, grumbling to himself.

Tony stomped off into the forest.

Steve froze. There was a spatter of blood on the map, and it definitely wasn’t his. “Tony?” He stuffed the map into his pocket and ran after Tony.

 

Tony hadn’t made it far. When Steve came barreling around the corner he found him sitting on one of the logs they had passed earlier picking rocks out of the backs of his legs. He looked up when Steve got closer, seemingly startled.

“What do you want?”

Steve knelt down in front of him, taking in the damage. Most of it looked superficial, thankfully, and there were only a few large scratches amidst the handful Steve could see. He brushed grass off Tony’s thigh, and then realized just what he had done. “Shit – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have –”

“It’s fine,” Tony murmured. He put his hand over Steve’s, rubbing his calloused fingers over Steve’s knuckles as if to comfort him somehow.

Steve sighed aloud, scrubbing at his face with his free hand. “Are you alright?” Tony shrugged, wincing slightly as he did. “It’s not like I haven’t had worse.”

“Did you fall on something?”

“I landed on some rocks when we fell down. It’s no big deal.”

“Tony,”

“I didn’t ask you to come and get me you know,” Tony grumbled sullenly, pulling his hand away.

“I know you didn’t,” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry that you got hurt when you fell. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“It was an accident,” Tony snapped, picking a pebble out of his scraped knee. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? I don’t need a babysitter. I can get home all by myself without _you_. I’ve been doing it for years.”

Steve stood up, dusting off his knees. Part of him wanted to walk off without another word, to just leave Tony behind and get on with his job and his life. He had met his fair share of infuriating people, but Tony took the cake. He turned to leave, but stopped when he caught sight of Tony’s back. The Incubus was hunched over, pressing his face against his knees as he attacked a particularly nasty looking scrape on the side of his ankle, plucking out a piece of grass that had gotten matted into the wound. Tony’s back was covered with scrapes and scratches; it looked like someone had gone at him with a cheese grater.

Steve sighed in despair. He hadn’t even thought about what it would be like to hit the ground without a layer of cloth between skin and soil. If it hadn’t been a grass field they had crashed into, the mess might have been much, much worse. He wished that he had a first aid kit with him or at the very least a rag to wipe up the blood.

“It’s fine Steve,” Tony grumbled, straightening up. “You can go. I told you, I’m fine. I heal fast.”

“I know you’re fine,” Steve said. He sat down on the log beside Tony, wincing sympathetically as he brushed grass and leaves from Tony’s back. “You’re supposed to take me to see Maria, right? You promised.”

Tony scowled. “She’s in the middle of that circle of obelisks back in the field. You don’t need me to find it.” He stood up, pushing Steve’s hand away. “You’ll be fine. She likes big _dumb_ blondes.” He turned his back to Steve as he tried to limp away.

“Tony,” Steve said in exasperation, catching Tony by the tail before he could get leave; the tail felt strange in his hand, all warm, smooth and heavy. He tried to push his mind away from the fact that it felt a little too close to something else. When Tony went rigid in his grasp, he gave the tail a gentle tug to try and get him to come back. “I’m sorry, alright?”

Tony turned around with a flourish, his arms crossed stiffly over his chest. If he had been dressed in a suit Steve would have thought they were at a business conference instead of standing out in the middle of a forest. Tony raised an eyebrow, his gaze cool and calculating. “What?”

“Please? I’d like you to come with me. I promised I’d make it up to you, remember?” Steve said. At this point he would take whatever advantage he could get, and if Tony was that advantage, well, he would just have to put up with him. He had meant what he said, and he didn’t break his promises unless it couldn’t be helped. Tony had said that Maria was his mother and if that was the truth then it would be worth his time to keep the Incubus around even if he was maddeningly unaware of how selfish he was. Steve smiled, hiding his frustration behind a mask of pleasantness. “Please. Come with me?” The smile likely looked strained, but that didn’t seem to be much of a problem for Tony.

“Really? Well, if you insist.” Tony’s eyes lit up, that oh-so-charming smile returning all at once. He strutted past Steve walking backwards, his tail looping itself around Steve’s palm. He tugged Steve along with him, leading them back to the grassy field as easily as he might if he was facing the right direction. Steve admired his balance.

“So, in your house, do _you_ have a computer?” Tony asked, walking them through the grass.

“Yes Tony.”

“And you have the internet on it?”

“Yes Tony.”

“What does it do? You said it’s a network but what does that mean? Is it controlled by a group of people or is it controlled by information?” Tony asked, nimbly avoiding a rock that came into his path. His tail pulled free from Steve’s hand as they got closer to the obelisks, parting the grass so that they didn’t have to walk through it.

“I guess you could say that it’s a little of both,” Steve said, trying not to be annoyed by the way Tony had gone straight back to the engineering talk. The guy had a one track mind it seemed. He followed along in Tony’s wake, swatting at the stalks of grass Tony hadn’t managed to snag to keep from getting hit in the face. “The internet connects computers all over the world, and people use it to store information,” Steve said. It was an oversimplification, but he didn’t feel like explaining anything in detail anymore. Explaining things felt far too draining.

 

The circle of obelisks was far larger than it had appeared from a distance; he had assumed that they might be waist high or so, but instead they were massive, towering well above the tops of the tallest trees. Each obelisk was a good arm length across, the stone some kind of dark marble he was pretty sure didn’t exist on Earth. They all seemed to be the exact same size, every last edge cut from the stone the same way. They weren’t just plain old obelisks either. They were decorated with carved looping runes of some kind; each one had a different combination of characters. Steve didn’t recognize anything he saw carved there; he hadn’t expected to.

The craftsmanship was admirable though, from an artistic standpoint. Every last symbol was the same height, every slice in the stone flawless and decisive with not a single stroke out of place. He eyed the obelisks nervously, unsure if they should be going anywhere near them. The last time he had approached ruins like this it had been to stop a cult from raising the dead, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was in the air here too. The Queen had said that he would be safe from harm, but was that true? Could he trust any of them? Tony had already stolen from him after all.

“And anyone can use the internet?” Tony queried, peering over his shoulder at the obelisks, oblivious to Steve’s inner turmoil. He stopped, turning around and then shifted his weight from leg to leg as he took in the sight doing a sort of hobbled dance. “They sealed her in there. I can’t usually get past the edge of the clearing – but your map broke the seal enough for me to get through. Thanks for that by the way,” he flashed Steve a toothy grin and darted forwards, moving far faster than he had earlier.

Steve barely kept up with him as they ran through the stones. Damn it, he thought in irritation, he had been played again!

 

 

He had expected to see the former Queen, but he hadn’t expected to see her quite like _this_.

She covered in filth, her legs and arms chained to separate obelisks so that she could move no further than a small circle around a dirty looking pile of straw. Her eyes flashed when she caught sight of them and the writing on the stones behind her lit up like lightning bugs at dusk their neon green and yellow light staining her pale skin. She looked angry. Very, very angry.

“Mother,” Tony panted, coming to a halt right in front of her. She turned her head towards him, her gaze slightly to the left of where he was standing. Her eyes were wide, her pupils so dilated it looked as if she was high on some kind of drug. She sniffed the air cocking her head to the side, listening guardedly to their breathing.

Steve came to a dead stop beside Tony. He put a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder to keep him still, afraid to let him get any closer; the former Queen looked like she might snap at them like a guard dog kept too long on a chain. “Can she hear you?” he asked quietly.

Tony shook his head, wiping his face on the back of his hand. Sweat was trickled through his hair and down his body in tight rivulets. He staggered, wheezing as he tried to respond and had to catch himself on Steve to keep from falling to the ground.

Steve caught Tony and almost dropped him; Tony’s skin was unnaturally slick, his olive tan going a sickly white. He had to dig his fingers in to the meat of Tony’s sides to keep him from slipping free. “Tony? What’s wrong?”

“Can’t breathe… spell is too powerful,” Tony gasped, holding onto the sleeves of Steve’s uniform. He mimed something Steve couldn’t understand and collapsed against Steve’s shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, clearly in pain, his face pressed up against Steve’s skin.

Steve quickly pulled the map out of his pocket, stuffing it into Tony’s hands; he didn’t know if it was going to help, but it was the only thing he could think to do.

The sweat stopped almost immediately, Tony’s struggled breathing growing easier. He took a deep breath in through his nose, his tail wrapping loosely around Steve’s waist; the colour returned to his skin in one fell swoop. “Shit, that was way worse than I thought it would be. Thanks,” Tony said, straightening up. “I read about it when I was trying to research how to break her out, but I guess they missed a few things when they were writing down the side effects of the magic.”

“What the hell was that?” Steve asked, grateful that whatever it was seemed to have passed.

“It is a spell to keep those of like blood and mind separated,” the Queen rasped, turning in Steve’s direction.

Steve tensed; Tony did the same, wrapping his arms tighter around Steve’s middle.

Queen Maria was just as lovely as Tony even in her wretched condition; it was very clear to Steve that the pair were related, even without having heard about it beforehand. Her features were more feminine than her son’s, but her chin was just as sharp and dignified, her eyes just as brown and fierce, yet at the same time there was a deadliness to her beauty. She didn’t look like she would ever truly smile without fangs shown.

“You are the Escort?” Maria sniffed the air much less tentatively this time; she turned and tried to face Steve, but ended up looking to the left of him instead. “You’re human?”

“Yes I am. I’m afraid I don’t know what the Escort part means ma’am, but that’s what the Queen told me,” Steve said. He meant to move Tony away from her in case something bad was about to happen but found his movements had turned sluggish, his brain unable to keep up with his plans. With the map gone from his hands the air seemed to have changed becoming unbearably hot and muggy around him. He swiped a dribble of sweat from the side of his neck and tried not to let it bother him, resting his free hand on Tony’s shoulder to steady himself; there was something he had been planning to do, but now that thought was fuzzy, hiding in the back of his mind. He didn’t like that feeling one bit.

“So she’s decided that it’s time for my punishment then?” Maria spat on the floor, her lips curling in disgust.

“I don’t know anything about a punishment. All she said was that if I can convince you to come back to the castle to hear her conditions, and if she agrees to forgive you, she’ll stop the Cleansing,” Steve said.

He could tell almost immediately that Maria wasn’t very pleased with what she had heard; her glower could have frozen hot soup. She yanked at her chains, causing the metal to squeal in protest. The obelisks came alive around them as if they were sleeping creatures awoken from a nightmare. They wailed in agony as they were yanked forwards; Steve flinched, clapping his hands over his ears to try and dull the sound, his enhanced hearing making things a thousand times worse than it should have been. He must have let out some kind of a pained sound, because Maria’s hands dropped to her sides as if they had been snapped into place by magnets; he watched her through watery eyes, trying to keep himself from crashing to the ground on his knees.

“Did you hear something?” Tony asked. He squeezed Steve’s middle, rubbing his hands up and down Steve’s back. Steve was startled by the touch, surprised that Tony would do something so tender to someone he had been fighting with.

The look of disgusted hate on Maria’s face fell away as she lowered her gaze to peer sightlessly into her lap. The obelisks fell silent, their screams becoming nothing more than an unpleasant buzzing noise in Steve’s ears.

“She wants to _forgive_ me? For what?” Maria hissed.

“I don’t really know ma’am. The most I can tell you is that if you go back, she’ll give you the chance to speak and end the Cleansing,” Steve gasped, lowering his hands.

Tony leaned back against him, peering up at Steve’s chin. He dragged his finger along the line of Steve’s jaw, staring in fascination at the bead of sweat that stuck to his finger; his tail wrapped tighter around Steve’s waist, tapping impatiently against Steve’s hip. “It means that she abdicates the throne cuts her ties to it – including the ties of her line. She’ll be just another Succubus once Brigitta’s done with her – they might even starve her to death,” Tony murmured, idly looping Steve’s sleeves around his hands.

“That doesn’t sound very nice,” Steve said. He had suspected as much, but it would have been nice to be wrong for a change. He couldn’t see Maria agreeing to Brigitta’s request when it meant the loss of her entire family’s power and position within their society; if he had been in her shoes he wasn’t sure what he would have done.

“It’s not meant to be _nice_.” Maria lifted her head. “But if that is what it takes to set things right for my people, I will do it.” Her pupils shrank as the obelisks behind her started glowing, stirring from their light slumber. A ring of symbols appeared on her irises; they were tinted with a ghastly shade of red, and looked suspiciously as if they had been carved there. The green and yellow magic started dripping its way down the obelisks, the now liquid magic pooling on the ground in a puddle. The obelisks went a dull grey once the magic had left, the polished shine wiped clean from the stone; the carvings that had once stood out so vividly were gone as if they had never been there to begin with.

“Mother – you can’t be serious!” Tony gasped, nearly dislodging himself from Steve. His rebellious tail remained tightly wound around Steve’s waist, completely uninterested in what was going on. The tip started leisurely exploring the inside of Steve’s pants, slipping behind the fabric into the crotch.

Steve yelped in surprise and grabbed for it. He yanked the tail free before it could wrap itself any tighter around his cock, his face going bright red. “ _Tony_!”

Tony cast him an apologetic look and tugged at his tail, giving it a look he might give to a petulant child. “Behave! You’re not supposed to do stuff like that.” The tail wilted, hanging limply against Steve’s hip as if paying penance for the impromptu groping. “Sorry,” Tony sighed, flicking his tail. “It does that sometimes.”

“Aren’t you in control of it?” Steve grumbled, rubbing his stomach in lieu of reaching into his pants to adjust himself. Even if he was in the company of lust demons, he still wasn’t going to start doing something like _that_ out in public, especially not in front of a stranger and that stranger’s _mother_.

“I am in control of it,” Tony protested, “it just does things on its own sometime.” He tugged Steve along with him as he approached his mother, kneeling down in front of her. He took her face in his hands tenderly rubbing her cheek against his own. “You’ll be thrown out. _We’ll_ be thrown out.”

“I know that – do you think I’ve learned nothing since inheriting the throne?” Maria snapped, smacking him upside the head.

He went back on his heels, rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand. “I didn’t mean it like _that_.”

Her stern gaze softened, lips setting into a grimaced smile. “It’s hardly your fault child. She seized control because of your _father_ , not because of you. You know I don’t blame you for anything.”

“I know.” Tony stared down at the ground for so long, Steve was almost sure he wasn’t going to ever look up.

It was so heartbreaking a sight he couldn’t help but reach out and carded his fingers through Tony’s hair. Tony looked up, startled from his thoughts. He looked much younger than he had before, almost like Steve was looking at an image from the past. He smiled softly at Steve and leaned into the touch, his eyelids fluttering, looking completely content. “Thanks.”

Maria stood and gave herself a great shake. The chains holding her shattered and turning to ash breaking apart into great billowing clouds of black smoke; she cracked her back with a pleased groan, brushing her tangled and matted hair out from her face with one hand as she dusted herself off with the other. “I am sick and tired of festering in these chains – this air is foul and my body even more so. I must bathe, and when I am done I will decide what to do.” She snapped her fingers at Steve to draw his attention away from her son and started walking away, casting an irritated glance over her shoulder when he didn’t immediately spring into action. “Come Escort. Do your job.”

 

 

Steve sat perched on a smooth boulder at the side of the river dipping his toes in the crystal clear water; his boots sat beside him, washed clean of the mud and grass he had trampled through. He scrubbed at his uniform to try and get it as clean as possible fretting at the condition of the sleeves. There was still muck mashed into the seams when he was done with it, but it at least looked better than it had. He was tempted to take a bit of a soak, but the sight of Tony and his mother bathing serenely a few feet away made him feel like it would be the wrong thing to do; the thought of dirtying up their water made his skin crawl.

He scrubbed a wet hand through his sweat-sticky hair instead and dumped a handful of water down his back, enjoying the pleasant way the water momentarily chased away the persistent heat. At least the riverside wasn’t actively being patrolled by mosquitoes or other bugs. He was sure he hadn’t seen one yet, which was both surprising and eerie. Somehow it didn’t feel right to sit by a river and not get bitten by something.

He watched Tony and Maria fuss with her hair, trying to untangle the stubbornly knotted strands with their fingers.

Maria scowled, slapping Tony’s hands away when he tugged too hard. “Enough!” she roared, glaring at her reflection. “This is pointless without magic.”

“Hold on, hold on. I can fix it.” Tony ducked under the water and came up with a stone. It didn’t look all that special to Steve; it looked like a plain old rounded river stone. Tony started rubbing it between his hands like it was a fresh bar of soap, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he worked; the lather produced smelled faintly like the perfume Steve’s mother had once used after she came home to block out the coarse antiseptic smell from working in the hospital. Tony rubbed the soapy film into his mother’s hair, taking care not to tug at the knots close to her scalp. He smirked to himself when the hairs easily slid free from their knotted prison, pleased with the way the mess was disappearing one knot at a time. “See? You forgot about the stones again, didn’t you?” he teased.

Maria clucked her tongue in annoyance, stealing the stone away. “Don’t talk with me about forgetting, boy.” She rubbed the stone between her hands to make some lather of her own, grumbling under her breath as she worked the handful into her greasy hair. Together they stripped the grime away, taking it one long strand at a time until there wasn’t a single knot to be seen.

Steve scoped out the riverbed, wondering what else the Succubus world had to offer. Everything here seemed enchanted, every rock and stream with its own unique purpose. He wondered who maintained all of the spells. Did they have someone who went around picking everything up and re-enchanting it when the magic faded? Maybe it was all naturally enchanted. He had heard stories from Thor about stuff like that. A few enchanted stones weren’t any more farfetched than enchanted swords and hammers after all.

Maria peered at Steve from the other side of the water, leaning back against the smooth riverbank with her hair floating about around her in silky waves; her gaze was almost as piercing as Fury’s, and the look on her face was just as pleasant. He considered asking her what she was thinking about but instead looked away into the water in front of him, not wanting to tempt fate any more than he already had. She looked angry, and the last thing he wanted to do was make it any worse; she had a tough decision ahead of her, one he was sure would haunt her till her dying days. He had sacrificed himself for others before, and he knew just how painful it could be to die for the greater good; he knew just how terrible a decision like that could be. She seemed to be a good leader, one who realized that others were suffering for her sake. Maybe she would make the right choice, maybe not. Whatever happened now was up to her.

Tony, however, was still an enigma. He seemed content to be floating on his back in the middle of the river, staring lethargically up into the sky with his tail feeling along the riverbank below him. The man was smart, although he didn’t seem to have anything in the way of social skills; Steve wondered just how educated the Incubus actually was. It wouldn’t have surprised him if the man now blowing bubbles out his nose was a genius of some kind. With all the clockwork inventions he had seen strewn about in Tony’s home, it wouldn’t have surprised him to find out the guy was smarter than Howard Stark. The people he had met hadn’t had much in the way of interest in building or learning; sex had been the name of the game. Tony was apparently in his own little world here. He wondered if Tony been working out of his house the entire time his mother was locked up. The place had seemed well used, and with the amount of clutter lying around it was probably safe to say he had been there for years.

Were there schools here where Tony had learned engineering? Had he taught himself? The way Maria had been talking, it seemed like they hadn’t had all that much time together, at least not recently. He wanted to ask so many different questions, and at the same time didn’t want to know the answers. He reminded himself sourly that he didn’t want to get attached to someone he was going to have to leave behind; he had lost enough people as it was. There was no need to pile another one onto the flames. Besides, he didn’t like Tony. Tony was just another spoiled brat messing about. Right?

He watched Tony in silence, wondering instead how much time had passed on Earth; Doctor Strange’s report had mentioned time differences, but it hadn’t said how fast or slow time would be traveling on the other side of the portal. Had Bucky and the others jumped ahead in time, leaving him behind all over again? He sighed. A few hours or months going by on Earth’s side wouldn’t be so bad, but years…. Well, years would be devastating. It had been stupid to get Thor to throw him through the portal without checking into it more first, but as they said, hindsight was twenty-twenty, wasn’t it?

Steve pushed his waterlogged hair out of his eyes. Sharon was going to _kill_ him, he just knew it. He had sworn that he would meet her for coffee on Friday, and this was the _fourth_ time he had missed their date. She had been nice about it before, telling him that it wasn’t a problem considering the fact that neither of them had total control of their work schedules, but he had a feeling that she wasn’t going to be so forgiving now that he had literally vanished off the face of the earth; he couldn’t really blame her if she deleted his number from her phone this time for good. Four missed dates was four misses too many, and even if Bucky had somehow managed to intervene on his behalf, he was pretty sure that there was nothing he could do to smooth things over. He would probably be lucky to make it out of their next meeting with his arms and legs still attached.

“So….” Steve jumped at Tony’s voice, looking around wildly, his heart hammering in his chest. He had been so deeply in thought he hadn’t even noticed that Tony had drifted across the river towards him. He met Tony’s gaze and smiled weakly, cursing himself for not paying more attention to his surroundings.

The Incubus floated leisurely on his back beside Steve, the soft edge of his hip bumping against Steve’s toes bare toes; Steve forced himself to keep his eyes on Tony’s face, trying valiantly to ignore the fact that Tony’s lower half was suddenly out on display and right in front of him. He was pretty sure his face was going to be permanently on fire by the time he got back to his own world. Tony just looked so goddamned _good_.

“So they teach people how to work with electricity in your world, right?” Tony drawled.

“I guess so. They call it electrical engineering I think,” Steve said, clearing his throat when he realized that his voice had taken on a far more squeaky tone than normal. “One of my friends employs a bunch of them in his company.”

Tony’s eyes lit up. “You’ve seen them?”

Steve froze; he wondered how much he should tell Tony considering he wouldn’t be sticking around. It seemed almost cruel telling him things about Earth like this. Once the portal was closed it would likely be closed forever or at least until another civil war broke out. SHIELD wasn’t going to want anyone to come through who didn’t belong. The Succubi and Incubi already on Earth would be showed the door, healed or not and while he didn’t like that they would be left to their own fate, he was sure that if they did die, they would appreciate doing it in their own world. Dying alone would be awful; he would know. He had done it.

“Hey,” Tony squeezed Steve’s knee, looking up at him through dark eyelashes. He gave Steve a sleepy smile. “You look like you could use a roll in the hay. I’d be more than willing to lend a hand.”

“I don’t think so,” Steve chuckled, pushing Tony away with his foot. The Incubus floated a few feet out and then rolled over, ducking energetically under the water. He popped back up between Steve’s knees, smiling sweetly up at Steve. “You could just take me with you when you leave you know.”

Steve groaned internally, forcing his face to fall blank. “I’m sorry Tony, but I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “SHIELD has protocols in place, and I’m not allowed to break them. We’re not supposed to bring anything living back to Earth.”

“But I’m _nice_ – and I’m charming – and I’m smart! I learn fast too, so I won’t be a burden.” Tony clung like a limpet to Steve’s knees. “I’ll be useful!”

Steve ruffled Tony’s hair, smirking when Tony sputtered indignantly at him. “Believe me, I wouldn’t mind if you came back with me, but they’re not going to let it happen; the moment you step through that portal someone is going to shove you right back through. Besides, you can’t just leave your mother here all by herself, can you? She’ll be all alone.”

Tony scowled darkly, slapping the water. “She’s fine on her own. She has plenty of children here to take care of her – she doesn’t need me.”

“Tony,”

“What? It’s true! I’m just the youngest – that’s the only reason she’s even still talking with me. I’ll be forty five soon! Then no one’s going to say a word to me and I’ll have to go farm dreams all the time like all the other harvesters. Frankly I’d rather spend my time doing more productive things. I don’t want to just sit around and watch the world through some human’s dreams.” Tony splashed the water, scowling at his reflection.

“You’re forty five?” Steve hadn’t thought Tony was that old. He certainly didn’t look like it.

“I’m forty _four_ ,” Tony corrected, jabbing Steve in the shin, “but that’s not _that_ young. Why? How old are you?”

“I’m twenty eight,” Steve said, trying to keep a straight face. If Tony thought forty five wasn’t old, then twenty eight was definitely nothing impressive. As expected, Tony’s jaw dropped in a rather unflattering way. “You’re just a _baby_!”

“I am not!” Steve grumbled, splashing Tony in the side of the head. “Where I’m from you’re considered an adult by eighteen or nineteen.”

“Oh,” Tony murmured. He ignored Steve, staring intently at Steve’s scale mail covered thighs. He ran his fingers over the sleeve of Steve’s suit, fixating on the material and stitching. “You know, this would be stronger if you refined the material. You’re lucky you haven’t been skewered yet.”

“I have been. Luckily I heal almost as fast as you do.” Steve said, carding his fingers through Tony’s hair again. He couldn’t help himself; it was just so amusing the way Tony’s eyes blinked shut. God, Steve thought wearily as he rubbed his fingers against Tony’s scalp, Tony was winning him over and he wasn’t even using magic.

“Humans have really soft skin compared to us,” Tony said, leaning into Steve’s touch. He rested his cheek against Steve’s knee, letting the sleeve drop with a sigh. “I can really help you out you know,” Tony mumbled. “I’ve got tons of research papers at home – the weapons and inventions I build have been used all over our world.”

“I’d love to bring you home with me, but it’s impossible,” Steve said. He continued to pet Tony’s hair, feeling a little more miserable with each stroke when he realized that he really meant what he said. He sort of _did_ want to bring Tony home. He wanted to see the look on Bucky’s face when they finally met; he wanted to bring Tony _home_.

 

 

Queen Brigitta was waiting for them in her audience chamber when they arrived at the castle. They didn’t even have to wait an obligatory twenty minutes for her to show up; she was lying in wait sprawled on her mattress in the same position Steve had last seen her in. She scowled the moment they made their way into the room, looking a bit like she might spit at them.

Maria, on the other hand, didn’t seem to even notice her sister. She allowed Tony to lead her to the only cushion in the room, settling down with her damp hair curling around her body like a wet sheet. The two Queens were as different as night and day. Where Maria was tall and slender, her sister was short and curvaceous; they shared eyes and lips but nothing more.

Brigitta rolled onto her side, peering at her sister from under her bangs. “So, you’ve finally come to apologize?”

“I have come as you requested,” Maria replied tersely, arms crossing over her breasts.

“What mother means to say,” Tony said quickly cutting in, “is that she wishes to propose a change to the laws.”

Brigitta sat up slowly; Maria’s lips went thin and tight, but she didn’t say a word.

Tony stepped in front of his mother, bowing in suplication before Brigitta’s mattress. He remained bowed until she flicked him with her tail and then looked up smiling the most charming smile Steve had ever seen. “She proposes a compromise.”

“A what?” Brigitta grunted looking even more irritated than before. “A compromise? What idiocy is this? Does your _fool_ speak for you sister?”

“He does,” Maria grumbled. “Gods save us both, he does.”

“It has come to her attention that Queens are often weakest when they are with child,” Tony said, wrapping his tail delicately around Brigitta’s. She frowned at him but didn’t pull her tail free; her tail began to rub against his, their tails moving back and forth together. “The Queen with child must, by rule of law keep her child alive until it can fend for itself, yes?” he said.

She nodded slowly, her scowl softening. “What of it?”

“What if,” Tony said, gently stroking her hand, “there were _two_ Queens? One Queen to rule when needed, the other Queen to rest and care for her child. The Queens could work together – no one would dare challenge their rule.” He kissed Brigitta’s knuckles, smiling coyly at her. “They would be so much better together than apart.”

Brigitta ran her teeth over her lower lip, not quite glaring at him but not quite smiling either. She looked at her sister, who was sitting on her cushion in silence doing nothing more than making eye contact. “And she would agree to this? She would agree to allow me to rule once the child is old enough to fend for itself?”

Tony looked back over his shoulder at his mother, the smile on his face going almost painfully tight. He seemed to be willing her to agree with all of his might; Maria grimaced, her arms still tightly crossed over her chest. “I would agree if the terms were to include my people and yours returning to their homes without fear of a Cleansing in the future.”

Brigitta tapped her chin, staring up at the ceiling. “And the Earth-born? What of them?”

“The Earth-born would be free to come and go as they please. They would be allowed citizenship – it is only fair,” Maria said softly, eyeing Tony.

Brigitta drummed her fingers on her arm. “I don’t see how letting _them_ come and go as they please would be beneficial to the _rest_ of us. They are better used as servants.” She sneered at Tony, yanking her tail away from his so violently that Tony ended up scooting across the ground past his mother’s cushion to get away from her. He rubbed at his tail, wincing in pain.

“I will not have my son serve as someone’s slave,” Maria snapped, standing up. “It is unfair to have my son _serve_ while your three daughters do not.”

“My daughters do not serve because they are of maiden-blood! They do not need to serve!” Brigitta snarled, leaping up. The pair squared off, tails whipping through the air as they struck at each other.

Tony hurried to Steve’s side and pushed him out of the range of their strikes. He grabbed Steve by the wrist, his grip tightening when Steve tried to take a step forward to break the feuding pair up. “Let them deal with it themselves,” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, still smiling painfully at his mother and aunt. “If you step in they’ll never agree to anything with each other again.”

Steve nodded once, taking a careful and calculated step backwards. He hoped to god that Tony knew what he was doing.

The two Queens looked ready to murder each other in cold blood, circling the room as their tails snapped at each other; they seemed to be arguing through movement alone, shaking and nodding their heads after each blow landed, welts springing up on their bodies. The movements were rhythmic, a dance seemingly choreographed beforehand; this wasn’t a dance though – this was war.

At last, after what seemed like hours of brutality, Brigitta’s shoulders sagged in defeat. She scowled and bowed her head once; Maria did the same, a similar scowl on her face. “It is agreed then.”

“So it is,” Brigitta sighed. Her tail wrapped calmly around her waist, rubbing circles on her welt covered hip. “The Humans will send the Cleansed back – the _living_ cleansed. They may keep the dead.”

“Fine.”

“And the Human will go back to his world – unless of course you wish to couple with him?” Brigitta nodded towards Steve. Maria shook her head, smoothing her hair down over her shoulders. “No, I would not dream of it.”

“Fine then. Human,” Brigitta said, snapping her fingers to get Steve’s attention.

“Yes Ma’am?” Steve said, uncomfortably aware that all eyes were suddenly locked on him. It was an unpleasant sensation, one that made his stomach churn; he sneezed loudly, a sudden burst of cinnamon clogging up his sinuses.

“Human, you will return to your world – come here.” She motioned for him to approach, and he reluctantly did as instructed. “Hold out your hand.”

He flinched when she drove a sharp fingernail into his palm but didn’t move, barely feeling the pain as she carved a symbol into his flesh. When she was done she licked his palm and the skin healed, leaving a scar behind in the shape of the symbols she had so diligently carved. She checked her work over and then dropped his hand as if disgusted by it, spitting over her shoulder. “This is your gate key. Guard it with your life,” she said as she plopped down on the mattress, making herself at home again. “Now get _out_. We have things to discuss and we don’t need distractions to keep us from our work. Brat, take him back to the portal and show him the way back home.”

Tony gave Brigitta a bow so low his nose practically touched the ground, straightening up only when she let out a hiss of displeasure; he turned, took Steve by the hand and led them out of the audience chamber without looking back.

 

 

They walked in silence. Tony kept a few steps ahead of Steve, his pace not quite frantic but certainly fast. His tail whipped back and forth in agitation, the tip returning every third swish to rub amiably against Steve’s chest.

Left and Right nodded to them as they passed by, allowing them to make their way to the portal courtyard without comment. They seemed a bit sadder than usual, and Steve wasn’t entirely sure why. The civil war was over – shouldn’t they have been… happy?

“Tony?” Steve hesitated, unsure of what to say. He wanted to thank the man for everything he had done, but couldn’t find the words; misjudging Tony had been a mistake he wouldn’t make again. Tony’s language had been eloquent, his body language passive and yet forceful. It had been strange to stand by and watch him work, and at the same time he would have loved to do it again. Tony had obviously had some kind of royal training as a child, and it must have been intensive if he had managed to keep with it after thirty some odd years away from their Court. He had singlehandedly stopped a civil war with a few well-chosen words and if that didn’t deserve praise than what did? If he had been on earth, he might have been honored with an award for his efforts, yet here… no one seemed to really care. Steve turned when Tony started talking again, wanting to pull him into a hug as thanks. For some reason though, he couldn’t manage to do it. His arms felt frozen in place, too stiff to move.

“You’ll have to hold your hand in the portal to bring it down to the right level. It was designed to both remove and accept travelers, so you shouldn’t have any problems with it once you’re through. It’ll hurt when the portal closes, but you’ll be alright,” Tony said his voice clipped and chilly. He let Steve’s hand drop as if it had burned him, pushing Steve towards the portal stone which roared to life in a flash of pink light. “See you later Steve,” he said, stomping off before Steve could respond.

Steve watched Tony’s retreating figure, his heart feeling heavy; part of him wanted to call out, to tell Tony that they could try and figure something out together, but he knew it was pointless. SHIELD wasn’t going to let him bring some stranger through a portal even if Tony _was_ a brilliant engineer; they wanted their visitors gone, and Fury had made it clear that the ones who stuck around were going to be spending the rest of their lives locked up on the Raft even if they promised to keep to themselves. He could understand Fury and SHIELD’s fears all too well. If one of the Succubi or Incubi set their mind to it, they could take over an entire city. And if there really weren’t all that many immune people around they would probably have the Avengers and god knows who else wrapped around their fingers in a matter of _minutes_. He clamped down on his emotions, gritting his teeth as he took one last look around and then stepped through the portal, his job finally done. He would miss Tony, but he would be better off in his own world.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone followed Steve home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for PTSD nightmares, nudity and depression/angst. Let me know if there's anything weird:)

When Steve stepped through the portal he was tersely informed by a very harassed looking Bucky that he had been gone for a week; he was also given a bone shattering hug, but that part wasn’t too bad.

“Howard called a bunch of his guys in when we couldn’t get through,” Bucky said, leading Steve towards a cluster of red and white boxy metal buildings. “He had this place shipped and assembled – SHIELD, on the other hand, basically sat on their asses and watched.” Bucky pushed open the main door, rushing Steve inside. “Jesus, Steve, why didn’t you pull your armor up when you came through?”

Steve started shivering violently, leaning against Bucky as he walked. “Didn’t think about it,” Steve stammered, trying to tug his armor back up. His sweat had frozen it to his skin and his numb fingers couldn’t seem to undo the knotted sleeves; his teeth were chattering almost uncontrollably, the sound so loud he was surprised that Bucky could even hear what he was saying.

Bucky shot Steve a tired look and wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder. “You look like hell Steve,” he said. “Come on, let’s get you to medical.”

 

Medical was packed; cots were jammed together so tightly it was surprising that the nurses could get close enough to check on everyone. Steve had thought that most of injured Succubi and Incubi would have been moved into a recovery ward by now, but apparently their injuries had been a lot more severe than the reports had said. Some of the injured looked like they had only just started healing, and judging by the nurses attending to them they weren’t out of the woods just yet; others were hooked up to monitoring equipment that looked like it had been commandeered from SHIELD’s own medical unit. An lucky few were unconscious and being given oxygen and intravenous fluids, cut off from their pain and suffering if only temporarily. Steve looked around as he was shuffled through the masses reminded of his days at war. There were Succubi and Incubi here suffering from severe frostbite and while they had likely healed considerably since arriving, they hadn’t grown their amputated limbs or digits back. “Isn’t there anything we can do for them?” Steve asked.

Bucky shook his head, steering Steve out of the way as a nurse carrying a tray of cups walked past. “They can change the bandages and shoot them up with painkillers – that’s about it. They’re healing on their own; it’s just a slow process. This place looked a whole lot worse last week. You’ve done more than we ever could by talking with their Queen. Come on, let’s get you checked out.”

Steve allowed himself to be manhandled onto a cot of his own. He submitted to a full check-up where he was subsequently stripped of his crusty armor and forced into a set of mint green scrubs; he told Bucky all about the symbols carved in his hand as the nurse wiped his neck down, vowing to make a report when he was able. The one detail he did leave out was Fury’s child-to-be. There was a time and place for that particular conversation, and now was neither the time nor the place. He trusted that Bucky wouldn’t go blabbing it to everyone, but there were far too many people wandering around that he didn’t know. While he liked to think that they were willing to keep their mouths shut about the whole thing, he didn’t want to risk it; these were Stark International people, not SHIELD.

“So did she give you a deadline for how long the symbols last?” Bucky traced a finger over Steve’s now scarred palm, frowning at it.

Steve shook his head, trying to ignore the way the nurse was now swabbing his ears with something cold and wet. “No, she didn’t say anything about that. She just said that it would work to get the people here back through the portal. Tony mentioned something about it hurting when the portal disappeared, but I’m not sure if that means either. The Queen didn’t exactly want to keep me around once she was done with me.”

“ _Tony_?” Bucky waggled his eyebrows. “Found yourself someone over there that quickly, huh? Is he _cute_?”

Steve rolled his eyes, pulling his hand back. “He was just a guy I ran into.”

Bucky snorted, flicking Steve in the nose. “If it was _just_ a guy you ran into, you wouldn’t be so red in the face.”

“That’s just wind burn from being out in the snow!” Steve protested. To be fair the redness in his cheeks could have been from all the time he had spent in the sun, too; he never had been really good avoiding burns even after the serum took over.

Bucky chuckled, smacking Steve in the shoulder. “Sure Steve. Delude yourself all you want. You found a special _friend_ – did you sunburn anything _else_? Maybe lower down?”

“Bucky…”

“Fine, fine. Don’t tell me about your romp – be that way.” He laughed louder when Steve glared at him. “I guess we should be herding these guys out there ASAP, huh?” Bucky plucked his radio from his belt with a grin on his face. “Guys? Guess who made it back from nudist country?”

 

The final Succubus was escorted to the portal just before dusk. Steve was fairly certain that his hand had gone numb three hours previous but he hadn’t bothered pointing that out, figuring that taking his hand out might accidentally close the portal permanently. The Succubus smiled warmly at Steve, kissed him on the cheek and left without a word. Her tail vanished a few seconds later as it was pulled through the portal after her. Steve shifted his weight from leg to leg, trying not to move his numb arm; he was wearing extra layers under his parka, but it still felt like he had been intimate with an iceberg.

Natasha handed him a cup of steaming hot coffee; it was the good kind, not that metallic tasting stuff SHIELD brought along on long missions, and it was swimming with milk and sugar just the way he liked it. He held it in his good hand and sipped at it, happy to have something warm around even if he couldn’t quite feel the warmth through his gloves. If Natasha and Bucky hadn’t been bringing him snacks, he would have passed out from hunger long ago.

When he was done with his drink she took the cup away and started rubbing his shoulder, her grip so firm he could even feel it through his many layers.

“Are you alright?” Natasha asked. She fished a mars bar out of her pocket and unwrapped it, offering it to him.

“Thanks,” he said, stuffing half the bar into his mouth. He moaned in pleasure, blushing when he realized Bucky was laughing at him. “I’m fine, I guess,” he coughed, looking around to see if anyone had escaped their notice. “Anyone left to go through, Bruce? Or can I take my hand out now?” He ate the rest of the chocolate bar before Bucky could sneak over and swipe it from him, relishing the taste of the chewy caramel.

Bruce straightened up, massaging his lower back as he hobbled towards his equipment. He closed up his cameras with a push of a button and tried to stifle a yawn. “Go ahead and take your hand out Steve, we’re good here. That was the last of the creatures,” Bruce said. He and Howard had insisted on filming the entire thing for posterity, making sure to get close ups of every Succubus and Incubus that had come through. The collection of markings, facial features and tails was going into SHIELD’s database just in case any Incubi or Succubi showed up again.

Steve frowned at the use of the word creature, but let it go, too exhausted to be angry about it. He pulled his hand out of the portal and winced at the faint sucking sensation that followed as it released him. A split second later he clutched the arm to his chest, tears streaming down his face as pain coursed through his body. He wanted to scream; he might have been screaming already. It felt like his flesh had melted straight off his bones. He stared down his arm in horror, sure that he was going to see his flesh boiling over.

He wasn’t sure who got him back inside or what happened afterwards. The next time he could focus on something other than pain he found himself lying in bed swaddled in blankets wearing the same god awful green hospital scrubs from earlier. He let his hand drop to his side, flinching as the pain flared up. He stared up at the bare, bland ceiling wondering what had happened. He wasn’t hooked up to any hospital equipment, and there was nothing in the room to suggest that it was even in a hospital room. Someone had blessedly turned the heat up for him, and it was as cozy as could be. He turned his head and saw his clothing sitting in a pile on a metal chair beside the bed. His shield glinted at him in the darkness, reflecting starlight that tore through the thick frosted over window. He let out a long slow breath, feeling his body relax against the mattress and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.

It was over. It was finally over. Once morning came, he would be heading back to New York where he would have a very comfortable warm bed and all the hot soup and buttered bread he could eat waiting for him. He sneezed violently, jerking his arm in front of his face with a hoarse scream.

The smell of cinnamon was hard to forget, even harder to brush off as mere coincidence. Steve sat bolt upright in bed. The door popped open and someone staggered in, their teeth chattering so loudly it was hard to tell if they were trying to say anything or just wandering around silently. A sack hit the ground with a clunk; the figure shot forwards, diving onto the bed, making for the warm blankets and Steve’s body.

“Tony?” Steve lifted the blankets up and pulled a sheet free, wrapping the freezing Incubus up in it. He wiped at Tony’s ice water covered form, beating the snow from Tony’s hair. Tony’s tail was wrapped so tightly around his waist it had to have been painful. He was as pale as the snow outside, his lips faintly blue.

“Hi,” Tony sputtered, barely able to get the word out. He nuzzled closer to Steve, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. Before Steve could realize what he was doing he had fumbled his way under Steve’s hospital gown, burrowing for warm skin.

Steve yelped. “Jesus, Tony, your hands are freezing!”

“Yeah,” Tony grumbled, stuffing his head into Steve’s armpit, “I _noticed_.”

Steve tucked the rest of the sheet around Tony’s damp body and then wrapped the blankets around the both of them; he was dimly aware that he should report Tony to the doctors, maybe call the other Avengers in to let them know what was going on but all he could do was hold the shivering Incubus tight against him praying that Tony hadn’t gotten frostbite from his adventures in the snow drifts outside. God knows how Tony had gotten inside the building without being seen in the first place. Steve had seen the security system with his own eyes and it had been even more advanced than the stuff SHIELD regularly used to imprison their most dangerous criminals.

Tony shivered against Steve’s chest, snuggling closer when he realized Steve wasn’t going to push him away. He pressed his face to Steve’s throat, rubbing his icy beard against Steve’s skin; the scraping noise was blaringly loud in Steve’s ears. “Steve, Steve, Steve,” Tony murmured hoarsely, pressing kisses to Steve’s cheeks. His fingers dug into the fabric of Steve’s scrubs, tugging at it rhythmically. Steve flushed, shifting Tony so that he wasn’t quite so close to his hip, unsure about what to do with all the butterfly kisses. Sure, he liked Tony and they were nice and all, but he wasn’t exactly sure if he should be cuddling strangers while wearing nothing more than a hospital gown. Of course, he thought idly pressing a kiss to Tony’s temple while stroking his messy snow damp hair, Tony wasn’t exactly dressed any nicer than he was. He hoped to god no one was planning on walking in any time soon. He had never been caught in bed with someone before, but he was pretty sure Bucky wouldn’t ever let him hear the end of it.

“How the hell did you get here? I thought the portal closed!” Steve rubbed circles soothingly up and down Tony’s back, hoping that he wasn’t being too forward.

Tony looked a little like he might pass out, his shivers getting harder and harder despite being under layers and layers of blanketing. “I snuck through – waited to step out until the last possible second,” Tony murmured. He rubbed his cheeks against Steve’s, his teeth clicking away like the chattery teeth toys Clint had once brought into HQ out of boredom. “You didn’t say it was going to be so _cold_!” Tony griped, jabbing a finger into Steve’s shoulder.

“I didn’t think you were going to be coming through the portal! Cold to you is a stiff breeze! How was I supposed to explain what snow was?” Steve protested.

Tony nibbled indignantly at Steve’s collar bone, his shivers suddenly dying down. Concerned by the change, Steve ran a hand down Tony’s neck, trailing his fingers down past Tony’s elbows. The skin beneath his fingers was far less frozen than before, Tony's olive glow returning as if by magic. What was going on? Steve rubbed his thumb against the back of Tony’s neck.

“That feels nice,” Tony yawned, melting against Steve. “You still could have said something. Whatever, we’ll talk about it later. I’m tired.”

Steve was more than willing to have the discussion right then and there, but with Tony nibbling at him and the warmth of the heater kicking in, he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open. He wrapped his arms a little tighter around Tony and drifted off to sleep noticing drowsily that the pain in his arm was completely gone.

 

 

Steve woke up to an empty bed, damp sheets and a crick in his neck. He struggled upright, fighting off the blanket that had gotten wrapped around his arms sometime during the night. “Tony?” he called out. There was no response, no sound except for his shaky breathing. He got out of bed, rubbing absently at his neck and peeked into the simple bathroom finding, as expected, no one there.

Had it all just been a dream? He felt around on the floor with his feet but there was nothing there, no wet patch on the floor, no footprints and defiantly no sign of Tony. He decided to call in an expert, hoping that he had missed something somehow.

 

“And you think he came in through the portal?” Natasha asked, inspecting the room with keen eyes. She didn’t look all that upset at having been woken up before dawn, but it was usually pretty hard to tell with her. She dropped onto her knees and looked under the bed, feeling around under the mattress and then stood up. “I’m sorry Steve, but I don’t think there was anyone here. I don’t see any hairs or suspicious fibres. The cameras didn’t catch anything last night either, and the lock shows no signs of tampering. Frankly, I don’t think anyone could have gotten in without at the very least waking up Barnes,” she said, shrugging. “He was sleeping out in the hall the entire time, and I’m pretty sure a half frozen naked man running past would have woken him up.”

Steve hung his head, embarrassed at having wasted her time. “Sorry,” he sighed, scratching his head. “I guess I overreacted.”

Natasha sat down on the edge of the bed, perching there delicately. “How’s the arm?” She patted the blanket beside her, motioning for him to sit and he did, tugging the hospital gown a little lower so that he didn’t accidentally flash her; why they had taken his underwear away was a mystery, but it had apparently been standard practice according to Howard. At least they had had the decency to put him in the scrubs.

“It stopped hurting some time during the night – after I dreamed that Tony showed up, I guess.”

“Maybe it’s residual magic. You should try and get a hold of Doctor Strange – ask him about it.” She patted his knee kindly, a slight smile on her lips and then ruffled his hair, earning a sheepish grin from him. She wasn’t normally this touchy-feely, and he was glad for it; he leaned into her touch.

She was right of course. It had probably just been residual magic carried over from all the time he had spent with his hand stuck in the damned portal. He would just have to take a trip to see Doctor Strange after he got back home. The markings on his hand hadn’t faded or healed over even with the serum’s regenerative powers working away under the surface; they stood out like a white tattoo against his palm, just as clear as they had been an hour after the Queen had carved it into his flesh in the first place. He didn’t know what Strange could do about it, but maybe there was a way to mask it somehow. It didn’t hurt to play things safe after all.

“Steve?”

He looked up, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah?”

Natasha reached out, finger pressing against Steve’s throat. Her touch was gentle and slow, the warmth of her hand startling. “Did you rub up against something? You’ve got some scrapes here…”

Steve froze. “What?”

“Your neck – you have scrape marks. If I had to guess, I’d think it was…”

“Beard burn,” they said together.

Natasha stood up, glaring at Steve’s neck as if it were a personal insult. “Well, I guess you don’t have to worry so much about talking with Strange about your dream. Your little friend was _definitely_ here last night. Unless Howard stopped in for a little midnight snack, I don’t see how you could have gotten those marks.” She clenched her fists, her eyes narrowing. “I’m going to go check out the cameras again. This is ridiculous. We’re supposed to have the best protection SHIELD and SI has to offer – if an Incubus can get in and out of here without anyone noticing, we’re in trouble.”

“Alright. Report back when you know anything,” Steve said with a sigh.

She nodded to him and left, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

 

 

The trip back to New York was uneventful. They were in the air hours after Natasha reported the security breach, leaving SI behind to deal with the cleanup. No one seemed impressed by Tony’s apparent arrival. Both Bucky and Natasha seemed more wary than usual even when they were in the air; Bucky didn’t even take his post-mission nap, choosing to cross his arms over his chest and play solitaire on his phone instead. Howard and Bruce compared notes most of the way back, leaving Steve to fend off irritating questions from Clint about the strange ‘rash’ he had suddenly developed. By the time Steve got back to his apartment with Bucky in toe, he was ready to drop into bed and go right to sleep. He had filed his reports on the plane, dropped the hard copies off with Coulson on the way out the door from HQ and was ready to enjoy some good old fashioned privacy.

Well, _privacy_ was a subjective thing of course. Bucky kept hovering over him like a buzzard, watching suspiciously every time he reached for a coffee cup or moved a cushion on the couch.

“He’s an Incubus,” Steve growled, making himself a cup of cocoa, “He’s not an evil spirit capable of demonic possession, so stop staring at me like that.”

Bucky leaned against the dining room table chewing on a piece of jerky he had liberated from the kitchen cabinet. The groceries they had bought the week before were well on their way out the door; the milk was the only thing left that hadn’t gone bad. He didn’t relish the thought of cleaning up the mouldy mess waiting for them in the fridge. Hopefully nothing had gotten _too_ funky. He slunk over to the couch and sat down, leaning heavily against the cushions as he swallowed down the chocolaty cocoa.

“Should I order in then?” Bucky asked between mouthfuls of jerky.

“I suppose. I don’t really feel like going out for groceries. Do you?” Steve gave in to his inner devil and put his feet up on the coffee table. It had been a long day, and he didn’t particularly care about scratching it up with his socks.

“Fair enough.” Bucky crumpled the empty jerky pack up and threw it in the garbage, pulling out another unopened pack from the cupboard. “You want some?” he asked, cracking open the bag. Steve chuckled, shaking his head as he watched Bucky liberate a chocolate pudding cup from Steve’s not-so-hidden stash on the top shelf. “You sure?” Bucky ripped the top off of the pudding cup, licking his lips. The heathen liked to dip his jerky in pudding all the time and while Steve found it disgusting, he couldn’t exactly fault Bucky for eating something he enjoyed.

“No, it’s alright. I can wait until the take-out gets here. I’m not that hungry,” Steve said.

Bucky shrugged, seizing another piece of jerky and dipping it in the chocolate pudding. “Your loss,” he sang as he strolled into the kitchen. He plucked the portable phone off the wall, hitting speed dial before Steve could even ask him where he was ordering from. He swallowed his mouthful of pudding and jerky, clearing his throat. “Hi, I’d like to place an order for delivery,” Bucky said. He began to list item numbers from memory, padding his way to his room with the pudding cup clutched in one hand and the jerky bag tucked safely under his arm.

Steve was glad for the peace and quiet. He yawned into the back of his hand. A quick nap wasn’t out of the question. Even if there was food coming, he didn’t really have to be awake for it after all. He had a feeling that his credit card would be buying whatever came anyway, so he didn’t feel too bad about sleeping through the delivery. As he drifted off, he thought about Tony and the time they had spent together while Tony swam; his lips twitching into a smile. He could almost hear Tony’s voice whispering in his ear, a ghost of a dream. He groaned and shifted against the couch sliding lower, his hands slipping towards his thighs. Suddenly his legs felt a little heavier than normal, like something had sat on him. He jerked awake and peered into a pair of familiar chocolate brown eyes. “Tony?” he squeaked in astonishment.

Tony settled comfortably on Steve’s lap, a great Cheshire cat grin spread across his face. He looked aroused by the way Steve was eyeing him, and Steve had to admit, he looked mighty fine sitting where he was; his hands came up to steady Tony, fingers digging into the meat of the Incubus’ hips a tad tighter than was strictly necessary. Tony grunted in pleasure, bumping his chest against Steve’s. Was this a dream? Had he fallen asleep after all?

Bucky came flying into the room, the phone slamming into the floor behind him with a loud bang; the battery pack snapped off and rolled away, bumping against the table leg. He slid across the hardwood in his socks with his favourite pistol out, aiming it directly at Tony’s head.

No, Steve thought, this was definitely not a dream.

“Whoa!” Steve waved at Bucky so that he wouldn’t have to clean brains off of the furniture, “It’s alright – it’s just Tony.”

Bucky didn’t look pleased by the revelation but he did lower the gun, flicking the safety back on as more of an afterthought than a real choice. He gave Tony a once over and then retrieved the phone from the floor, snapping the battery pack back in without taking his eyes off their visitor. “Ok, I think we need to set a few new rules here _roomie_ ,” Bucky said as he slunk into the kitchen to hang the phone up. He stashed his gun in the cutlery drawer where it most definitely did not belong, slipping back into the living room when he was done. “No naked dudes in the living room.” He gestured to Tony, who was busy rubbing his bearded chin against Steve’s neck like he was scent marking him, “And no sex on the couch. I mean it buster.”

“Tony – Quit it. Can’t you just sit down like a normal person?” Steve grumbled. Tony stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “I do this all the time. What’s the big deal? Are you jealous or something? I mean, I give great blowjobs and all,” Tony said, rubbing against Steve’s chin, “but I don’t really like sharing.”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Bucky growled, snaking around the coffee table. He tried to knock Tony sideways off of Steve’s lap but Tony refused to be dislodged so easily. He wrapped his legs and tail around Steve’s waist, clinging like a limpet, shoving his face into the crook of Steve’s neck. “Screw off! He’s mine!”

Bucky tipped his head back, groaning in despair. “Get him some goddamned clothes before I go blind. Please.”

Steve sighed and struggled upright with Tony hanging off of him; he was glad that the spare clothing he had packed to take with him on the mission had been baggy, or else some uncomfortably hard anatomy would have been pressed right up against his bare stomach. He tucked an arm under Tony’s thighs in a vain attempt at getting Tony’s iron thighs to loosen up. “Can you get my bedroom door?” he asked Bucky, slipping backwards around the back of the couch so that Bucky wouldn’t get an eyeful of Tony’s bare ass.

Bucky held the door open and then scooted away, dropping onto the couch in a heap muttering to himself as he glared at the cushion Steve had just vacated.

“Tony,” Steve muttered, only barely putting up with the way Tony was now sucking marks on his neck like a slightly less irritating leech, “let go – you need some clothes.” He closed the door behind him and stalked towards his bed.

Tony leaned back with his arms around Steve’s neck, nipping Steve on the chin. He lounged in Steve’s arms, bravely trusting that Steve wasn’t going to drop him on his head. “I think I’m alright. It’s nice and warm in here,” he said with a roguish grin. “Maybe we can get something else done, if you know what I mean.”

“Tony, no,” Steve said, gingerly prying Tony’s legs apart. He set the Incubus down before he could get any more handsy. “You need clothing.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have to wear anything if I don’t want to,” he sneered. “You’re not my father and you’re certainly not my mother.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Steve said dryly, turning his attention to his dresser. He dug through the drawers and pulled out a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt that looked like they might fit. His clothing would be massive on Tony, but at least the sweat pants had a drawstring that could be tied to make the waist a little tighter. He held them out and sighed wearily as Tony glowered at him.

Tony’s tail swatted the clothing out of Steve’s hand, knocking it to the floor. “No,” Tony snapped. “I won’t wear it.”

“Then I guess you’re not leaving this room,” Steve said. “I get that you don’t normally wear clothing, but in my world it’s considered polite to not be wandering around naked all the time. People here are embarrassed by public nudity – we’re not as unashamed by our bodies as you are Tony, and frankly it makes me uncomfortable when you sit on me like that.” He gestured to his drawer. “You can wear whatever you want from my things, but you need to have pants and a shirt on before you leave this room.” And with that said he left closing the door quietly behind him. He winced when he heard the sound of something colliding with the door. “The pants are the ones that go over your legs,” he called out loudly. Something else hit the door even harder. “The shirt is the one you wear over your chest.”

Steve sat down on the couch beside Bucky, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So,” he said, clearing his throat, “What did you order?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re asking me what we’re having for _dinner_?”

Steve shrugged. “Why not? It’s a reasonable question.”

Bucky laughed, smacking him with a pillow. “A reasonable question would be ‘how did the crazy naked man who followed me back from his world find his way into my living room’. I think that’s a pretty _reasonable_ question, don’t you?”

“I guess it is,” Steve agreed, turning to stare at his bedroom door even though it remained stubbornly closed, “but I don’t think we’re going to get an answer. I told him he couldn’t come out here until he had something on.”

Bucky snorted loudly. “Yeah, well, good luck with that. I’m sure he’s going to listen. He’s older than you _isn’t_ he?”

“Yes.”

“He seems very mature for his age. He probably thinks you’re a child.” Bucky picked up the remote, turning the TV on with a belch; he muted it before any sound could come on, staring blandly at the closed captions.

Steve wrinkled his nose. “Lovely,” he grumbled, still half watching the bedroom door.

“You’re welcome,” Bucky said, changing channels. “And you’re welcome for the food by the way. I ordered that Italian stuff you love so much. You’re getting the salmon spaghetti and the linguini with spicy sausage.”

“Did you get the bruschetta?”

“When haven’t I gotten the bruschetta?”

“Well there was that time you wanted to try the cheesy bread – what was it called again?” Steve leaned against the arm of the chair, listening half-heartedly to the sound of his stomach rumbling away.

“Boscaiola?” Bucky yawned, changing channels again.

Steve snapped his fingers. “Yes. That’s the one.”

“Alright – so I didn’t order the bruschetta _once_. Sue me.”

“I’d rather take my winnings some other way.”

“Oh?” Bucky turned around, batting his eyelashes at Steve, puckering his lips. “Like this Stevie?”

Steve slugged him in the shoulder playfully. “Pick a channel and stick with it,” he laughed.

“Fine, fine.” Bucky grumbled. “Pick the painful death. And people say you’re the nice one.”

Steve snorted at that.

 

The food arrived an hour later and the smell nearly had Steve eating his way through the paper bags the delivery driver had handed him. They had eaten on the plane of course, suffering through a sombre meal that had consisted of dry chicken salad sandwiches but it hadn't been nearly enough to tame the wild beast that was Steve's stomach. If he had been a paying customer he would have complained about the lousy service. He had eaten everything on his tray anyway, because after all, a meal was a meal and at least it had gotten his stomach to shut up for a few hours. SHIELD always had been a bit lame with its catering, and with the budget the way it was it wouldn’t likely be getting better any time soon.

Bucky snatched the bags away from Steve the moment the door shut in the delivery driver’s face and took them into the kitchen, fishing out a couple of bowls and serving spoons with his free hand. “Are you going to save some for your little friend?” he asked over his shoulder, balancing the bags precariously against his hip. Steve reached up over Bucky’s head and lifted out a stack of plates, taking them to the table where he set them beside the chairs like always; they didn’t eat in front of the television anymore if they could help it. It was the one habit that had carried over through time with the both of them. Steve was pretty sure Bucky enjoyed having dinner at the table with him even if he did always complain about it afterwards.

“I guess we should save him some. I don’t know when he ate last – or for that matter if he eats food,” Steve said, returning to the kitchen to grab some glasses and a few cans of cola from the fridge. Bucky snatched a can of grape soda from the inside door before Steve could shut it, carrying the can in his teeth while carrying the rest of their dinner in his arms.

“I can help with that you know,” Steve chuckled, mock grabbing for the food.

Bucky just brushed him off, wobbling away. He put the food down in the middle of the table and cracked the can open, pouring it into the glass Steve slid across the table to him. He sniffed the contents, sighing in contentment. “Well, I guess we’ll see if the smell of food lures him out.” Bucky threw himself into the seat facing away from Steve’s door, winking at him. “I’ll let you keep first watch.”

“Gee,” Steve said, taking the seat across from him. “Thanks.” He let Bucky take the first few scoops of food, fiddling with his can of cola as he waited his turn. He poured the soda into a glass for lack of anything better to do, watching the bubbles dance around the rim of the glass as if they were of real interest.

Bucky smirked at him as he scooped himself some Penne Capri, going heavy on the chicken and prawns as usual, the glutton. “You can always go in there and bring him something you know. You don’t have to stare a hole through the door.”

“I dunno. I guess it sort of feels rude to go in,” Steve mumbled through a sip of cola.

“It’s _your_ bedroom Steve.” Bucky bit into a chunk of chicken, his eyes glazing over. “Fuck this is good.”

“It always is,” Steve said, reaching out to snag a few of the conchiglioni before Bucky could scrape the entire plate into his bowl. Bucky mock stabbed at his hand with his fork, grinning through a mouthful of half-chewed food.

“Lovely,” Steve grumbled, fending off Bucky’s fork, “ _why_ do I live with you again?”

“For my charming good looks? My incredibly sharp wit? My ability to hit speed dial three and order large amounts of delicious Italian food?” Bucky shrugged, “who knows Steve. If you ever find out let me in on the secret.”

The bedroom door opened with a slow whine. Steve managed to catch his escaped conchiglioni in time to keep it from rolling all over the tabletop, winding up with it in his hand. He set it on his plate and licked the sauce off his fingers as Tony crept closer, trying not to stare at him. Tony had pulled on the pair of sweatpants Steve had left him, although he didn’t appear to have liked the shirt selection; Steve recognized his Captain America t-shirt almost immediately and tried not to smile openly at the sight. Tony probably didn’t even know what Captain America was after all, but it was still sort of sweet to see.

Tony shuffled towards the table, the baggy shirt and pants sagging with each step he took. He eyed Bucky carefully as he snuck around him, moving to sit in the chair beside Steve.

“I see you’ve agreed to wear clothing,” Bucky drawled, stabbing a stray gnocchi that was trying to hide behind a hunk of bruschetta.

Tony stiffened in his seat, his tail going rigid. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Bucky chewed slowly, his chin resting in his hand. “Steve,” he said, swallowing loudly, “your little friend is an _asshole_.”

“I am not!” Tony barked, baring his teeth. He looked ready to dive clean over the table; Steve put a hand on the back of Tony’s neck and to his surprise, Tony went limp like a noodle, leaning heavily against him.

“It’s fine Tony. He’s just teasing you.”

“I was not,” Bucky grumbled, taking a swig of grape soda. He belched obnoxiously in Tony’s direction, winking at Steve. “He’s an asshole alright.”

Steve grabbed Tony’s tail before it could snap across the table and hit Bucky in the face, giving Bucky a dirty look. “Hey – knock it off, would you? We’re all adults here, so let’s try to eat and forget about the fighting for a while, alright?” He watched Tony’s face, slowly letting the captured tail loose when he saw the aggression flee the Incubus’ eyes.

Tony grumbled to himself, staring seriously at the food sitting in front of him. His eyes darted from plate to plate; he picked up the spoon in front of him and turned it this way and that, frowning at it.

“Do you eat?” Steve asked, picking up Tony’s empty plate. He scooped a bit of each dish onto it and handed it back, figuring that Tony could do whatever he liked with what was there. Between him and Bucky, they could eat twice as much as was here without even leaving leftovers so it wasn’t like anything as going to go to waste.

Steve dug into his salmon spaghetti with gusto, licking the sauce from his fingers when a stray noodle hit him in the hand. Tony’s eyes snapped to Steve’s fork, his expression turning wary. “It’s just a fork. We use them to eat,” Steve said. He swirled the noodles around on his plate until he had them wrapped around the tines and then held the food out. Tony hesitated, his mouth dropping open slightly. Steve took that as his cue to slip the forkful of food in.

Tony blinked in surprise. He used his teeth to pull the noodles off and then chewed experimentally, tilting his head to the side.

“Good?” Steve smiled, digging back into his food. He watched as Tony began to imitate his fork handling, each move slow and deliberate; there wasn’t any hesitation to him now that he knew the fork wasn’t some kind of weapon.

Tony prodded and poked at the food on his plate, experimenting with the force needed to skewer the different types of pastas. He popped a piece of gnocchi into his mouth after chased it around the plate.

Steve had to look away for a moment to keep from laughing aloud, too amused by the look of utter focus on Tony’s face. Tony was far too adorable for his own good; it really shouldn’t have been so damned endearing to see the guy nibbling on a pasta shell as if his life depended on it.

“What’s this?” Tony asked munching on a chunk of salmon after stealing it from Steve’s plate. Steve didn’t mind the thievery so much, although if it had been Bucky swiping his salmon he might not have been so lenient.

“It’s called salmon. It’s a kind of fish we have here. Do you have those in your world?” Steve plucked a piece of greasy sausage out of the dish in front of him. He didn’t remember seeing any fish in the river they had been in, but that didn’t necessarily mean fish didn’t exist. “This is pork.” He offered the piece of sausage to Tony smiling harder when Tony took it off his fork with his teeth, nibbling all the way round the edges.

Tony nodded, devouring the chunk once he was satisfied with it.

“This is another type of animal?” Tony asked.

“Yep.”

“We have fish,” Tony said slowly, taking another bite, “I don’t know what pork is equivalent to in my world. You said something about the internet? Can I look at it when we’re done?”

“Sure,” Steve said, not at all surprised that Tony had started asking to see technology. “I can show you all the files they gave me when I was unfrozen. It might not make too much sense, but you can always look up anything you don’t know once you get the hang of the computer.”

Bucky stabbed the last chunk of chicken, giving Steve a toothy smile. “Fury’s not going to enjoy you giving him information.”

Steve scowled, finishing off his soda with a gasp. “I really don’t give a rat’s ass what Fury thinks about this. We can’t just ignore him – the portal closed, remember?”

“Yes, the portal has indeed been closed,” Bucky muttered darkly as Tony started eating a piece of shrimp, “but that doesn’t mean Doctor Strange can’t find a way around it.”

Tony frowned at Bucky, pushing his plate away. “You’re not sending me back there.”

“Oh?” Bucky grinned, “We’re not? Give me one good reason I shouldn’t pick up the phone right now and tell Fury you’re here?”

“Bucky!” Steve snapped, glaring at his friend. “You can’t just send him packing – he’s a person!”

“He’s not a person. He’s a demon.” Bucky snapped back. “And you know it too – he doesn’t belong here.”

“Oh, and we _do_?” Steve growled standing up, his chair shrieking against the floor. He picked up the empty plates, stacking them carefully despite his anger, mindful of the sauce around the edges. “So should we have been sent back then?” He stomped into the kitchen, putting everything beside the sink.

“That’s not the same and you know it,” Bucky said with a sigh. He scooped up the remaining plates and glasses, stacking everything in a pile. “He’s not human,” he said carrying his dishes over, setting them down beside Steve’s pile. “He’s going to get into trouble no matter what he does. He wasn’t supposed to leave his world, was he? I can’t see his mother being very happy about him fucking off to Earth. He’s technically a prince, isn’t he?”

“I’m not in line to inherit anything,” Tony grumbled, examining the tablecloth. “I’m Earth-born. We don’t get to rule in my world.”

“Earth-born? What’s that mean?” Steve asked. He started doing the dishes with Bucky grumbling away at his elbow, determined to get things done so that he could go to bed. He was sick of talking as if people didn’t matter anymore, tired of hearing rules that changed ever few days. If he hadn’t had his hands in soapy dishwater he might have just left the room entirely, but he didn’t like the thought of leaving filth covered dishes in the sink overnight.

“Earth-born means that my father was mortal – a human like you two.” Tony stood up, sauntering around the room as he explored everything he could get his hands on. He went from knickknacks to furniture, not seeming to care that some of the things he was handling were delicate; he wasn’t destructive though, merely curious. He lifted and rotated pictures, pressed his fingers to the walls and rubbed his feet in the carpet, accidentally zapping himself with the static he had built up. “Ow!” he hissed, glaring murderously at the carpet. His tail pointed down at it like he was considering going spear fishing. “What did you do _that_ for?”

Bucky cast Steve a look, the one he used when he clearly thought Steve was losing his mind. “He’s yelling at the carpet Steve,” he muttered, drying the plate in his hands. He set it down, twirling the dish cloth around his arm. “He’s going to break something.”

Steve shoved a clean plate into Bucky’s hands, trying hard not to glare at him. “He will not. Let him explore – they don’t have anything like this in his world.”

Tony continued to poke away at everything oblivious to their concern. He couldn’t seem to get enough of anything, even going so far as to stare at every dimple in the paint on the walls. He spent a few minutes with his head under the coffee table staring at the joists and screws and then proceeded to take the couch apart cushion by cushion, peering at the springs, seams and the lining while his tail felt around in the carpet. He came up with a penny and held it up between his thumb and forefinger as if it was some kind of mislaid jewel. “Hey, what’s this?”

“What’s what?” Steve asked, setting the last dish into Bucky’s hands. He gathered up the leftovers and put them away, tugging the boxed Tiramisu they had specially ordered from Bucky’s hands before he could make off with it. “Get the plates,” he muttered to Bucky, taking the cake to the dining table. He gave Bucky the stink eye when he made to stick his finger in the top layer of the cake, and swatted his hand away. “For Pete’s sake Bucky, _leave_ it.”

“Steve? Hey, what’s this?” Tony called out again. Steve left the Tiramisu behind with reluctance to go check out what Tony was playing with, trying not to be surly about the distraction. A quick look over Tony’s shoulder told him what it was Tony was holding so delicately in his hands. To most people it wouldn’t have been all that impressive, but to Tony it seemed to be the most amazing thing he had ever seen. “Oh, that’s just a penny. It’s one of the coins we use for currency. You use them to trade for goods and services,” Steve said.

Tony scowled, rolling the penny over his knuckles like a seasoned grifter. “I know _that_ ,” he grunted. “How did you get so much access to copper? Do they have a lot of it here or do you humans know how to make it through alchemy?”

“They mine it all over the world. I’m pretty sure they can’t get a hold of it any other way. I think they’re trying to phase pennies out actually,” Steve said. “It costs more to make them than they’re worth.” He chuckled when Tony pocketed the coin.

By the time Tony reached the remote though, Steve was feeling a lot less good natured. Tony’s eyes gleamed as he held the plastic device in his hands, turning it over and over to get a good look at how it was put together. He looked like he was itching to take it apart piece by piece, only he didn’t know how to get the job done. Steve was glad he had never gotten around to buying himself a set of miniature screwdrivers despite how handy they had seemed in the store. He had a feeling that if he _had_ had them on hand and Tony had gotten a hold of them, his remote and half the appliances might now be in pieces all over the floor.

Tony cocked his head to the side, peering at the plastic seams, intrigued by the way the remote had been sealed up. He ran a fingernail through the crack, thumbing at the battery hatch. “What does this do?” Tony asked, waving the remote above his head.

“That’s the remote. It turns on the TV.” Bucky snatched the remote away, pointing it at the television like it was one of his pistols. “See? Just like magic.” He pressed the on button and then stabbed a finger at the mute button, turning the volume back on.

Tony hurled himself over the couch, terrified by the sudden images and noises; the channel Bucky had left it on was playing an action movie that had things exploding every three seconds and while it might have been entertaining to him, the noise wasn’t all that pleasant for Tony's ears. Tony’s tail flapped up above him as if waving a flag of surrender, the top of his head the only other thing visible from his position behind the couch.

Steve rushed to Tony’s side, scowling at Bucky and hefted Tony up; he rubbed a hand up and down Tony’s back, pushing Tony’s shirt back down around his hips where it had ridden up. “It’s fine Tony. The pictures and sounds can’t hurt you.”

Tony was shaking a little, but he didn’t stay scared for long. Soon he was around the couch and pressed up against the flat screen television, squinting at the images as if he could see the inner workings if he looked hard enough. Steve tugged at his shoulder, pulling him back slightly. “Careful! You’ll go blind if you stare so closely.”

Tony rolled his eyes, checking out the back side of the screen. He began to neurotically manhandle the wires and cables, his tail wiggling and thumping Steve in the side of the head every time he moved. “Wow – this is amazing!”

“ _Steve_ – Steve, stop him. He’s going to kill the TV,” Bucky whined, turning the TV off. He moved as if to go grab Tony by the tail but backed off when Steve got in the way.

“I’ll get him, it’s fine.” Steve gently eased Tony out from behind the TV stand, wrapping an arm around Tony’s waist so that he couldn’t lunge back at the television. “I’ll show you the internet now if you want. And all the files you wanted to see, ok?” Steve said in his most soothing voice.

Tony gave him a brilliant smile, squashing Steve in a tight hug. He kissed Steve’s neck, his tail wrapping around Steve’s thigh, sighing in contentment. “Excellent. I knew you were a good guy.”

“Steve,” Bucky whined again, “what did I say about _fucking_ in the living room?”

Steve scowled at Bucky. “Oh grow up.”

 

 

Tony took to the computer like a three year old to finger-painting; with the exception of Howard, Steve had never seen anyone so determined to deconstruct new technology. He watched Tony read through documents and online textbooks at an incredible speed. Tony scrolled and flipping through page after page without stopping to take a break, piling the printouts and books Steve had lent him around him like he was building himself a fort. He was very quiet, asking questions only if there was something he didn’t understand; he seemed to absorb knowledge without effort, mumbling equations and calculations under his breath when he found them within the pages he was so feverishly devouring.

Steve supervised Tony’s progress until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He tried unsuccessfully to coax Tony into bed and ended up passing out alone with the sound of typing and mouse scrolling ringing in his ears.

 

When Steve woke up the next morning, he was alone. The computer was sitting where he had set it up the night before but it was powered down; either Tony had done that or the battery had died. Steve wasn’t sure which it was. The clothing Tony had been wearing the night before had mysteriously vanished, as had the little fortress he had built. Hopefully that meant that if Tony had indeed decided to wander around somewhere outside, he was at least doing it clothed.

Steve rolled over, eyed the alarm clock and debated on whether he should go out for his morning jog. The weather looked great outside, and it might even have been _warm_ out there. The phone call he got next sunk those plans; he flew out of bed when he recognized the ringtone, almost destroying his nightstand with his elbow in his rush to get at his cellphone.

“Sir?”

“Captain Rogers, you had better have a damn good explanation for what’s going on.” Fury’s voice was distinctly lacking in emotion; that was never good, at least not in Steve’s experience.

Steve held the phone delicately to his ear, hoping that he wasn’t about to receive the world’s loudest teardown for not reporting Tony to HQ. He knew that Bucky hadn’t called it in even if he had grumbled about Tony the night before. The mission reports on the other hand would definitely have made their way to Fury by now unless Coulson had intervened. Coulson had done it before, but Steve didn’t think he was going to be that lucky twice in one year.

“What’s going on? Do you need us to assemble sir?” Steve asked, clearing his throat.

“Your _friend_ is here terrorizing HQ,” Fury growled. For a second Steve was almost thought that Fury sounded amused, but that couldn’t be right. “My who?” he asked, baffled.

“He’s been wandering around R&D for the past seven hours playing ‘light switch on light switch off’ and I am _not_ amused with the amount of inappropriate boners going on around here. You need to come down here and deal with this, _now_.”

“Who’s doing _what_? Are you talking about _Tony_?” Steve said his voice breaking. “Light switch on, light switch off?” What the hell did that even mean?

“Yes I’m talking about _Tony_. Who the hell did you _think_ I was talking about? He’s giving people inappropriate erections and then making them go away with his mind,” Fury snapped, “and it’s making the scientists fucking uncomfortable. Some of them have started _hiding_. Agent Coulson has already had to talk a few out from under their worktables. They’re not working Rogers – their only purpose within this organization is to _work_ and they are not _working_.”

Steve took a deep breath in through his nose. “Is he out of control sir?” he asked, praying that the answer was no.

“He claims that he’s only here to learn. Frankly, I’m not even sure what that means at this point – what the hell does an Incubus need with information about electrical engineering?” Fury said. “He’s been poking around locked terminals and breaking through firewalls like he was born to do it. The mind games are the least of our concern if he doesn’t get the hell out of my systems.”

“Can you put him on the phone sir?” Steve asked wearily. If he was lucky he wouldn’t even have to go in to HQ. Tony had listened to reason before and he probably would again if he phrased things the right way; he had already learned not to constantly grope people, so it wasn’t like he didn’t listen at all. Tony was an Incubus, but it wasn’t as if the guy was doing things out of maliciousness. He probably didn’t even realize how uncomfortable he was making people.

“Rogers?” Fury sighed aloud. “I’m not putting my phone anywhere _near_ that crazy bastard. He’s taking things apart with a set of screwdrivers he got a hold of somehow and half the time he doesn’t give things back when he’s done tearing them apart. Just go _get_ him – for what it’s worth he appears to be useful, albeit it in an irritating way, so I’m not going to have him shot. You have a half hour to get here soldier – he’s talking with Dr. Banner right now. I don’t think I need to _remind_ you how that might end.”

Steve was across the room and struggling with a pair of pants before Fury could even hang up. He dropped the phone onto his bed and nearly zipped himself into his jeans, knocking all of his sketchbooks and pencils off of the bookshelf beside him as he whirled around to find a shirt that wasn’t covered in sweat or paint; usually he was more graceful than this, but right now he was too worried about Tony’s life to care. The thought of Tony tearing SHIELD apart bolt by bolt with the Hulk chasing after him was too frightening to ignore.

“Steve?” Bucky leaned against the doorframe, his hair mussed and clothing rumpled from sleep. He yawned so hard he cracked his jaw. He massaged it with the heel of his hand. “What’s going on? Are you going for your morning run or something?”

“Tony found his way into HQ,” Steve said, finding the last of his clean work appropriate shirts under a pile of purple knitwear he had been sent by a fan. He pulled it on, narrowly missing one of the sleeves. “I need the car keys now!” He grabbed his wallet from underneath the dresser and toed on the first pair of socks he could find. By the time he turned around again Bucky was back stuffing his gut into a pair of pants that were slightly too small, the car keys clamped between his teeth.

 

They didn’t speed; that would have been illegal, but they did go slightly faster than the speed limit suggested as they made their way through block after block of mid-morning traffic. Bucky was sweating like a pig and swearing a blue streak by the time they pulled into SHIELD HQ’s underground parking. He had weaved them in and out of traffic with incredible efficiency to get them through the construction project they had accidentally driven through; it had seemed to stretch from one end of the city to the other. He had briefly considered picking Bucky up and simply dashing to HQ, leaving the car behind; the only thing that had stopped him was the look on Bucky’s face when he had suggested it.

When they got through security, after suffering through three retinal and four finger print scans, they found an eerie silence had enveloped the building. No one was around; the front desk was empty, and so was every last office they passed. Confidential papers and files were strewn about on the floor, coffee cups and breakfast snacks littering the halls like confetti. They made their way to Research and Development, keeping an eye out for lurking agents but couldn't spot anyone. Even the interns who usually spent their mornings fetching coffee and doughnuts as if bungee-corded to the break room were in hiding.

“Where’s Banner’s lab?” Steve asked Bucky, setting a chair upright before someone could trip over it. He watched a security camera zoom in on him and squinted up at it. “Do you think security cleared everyone out like this?”

Bucky checked his phone while looking at the directory on the wall. “I don’t know. Nat says Banner is in Lab 73. They’re still talking, but Banner’s looking a little green.”

“Does she have eyes on Tony?” Steve asked, increasing speed as he rounded the corner.

Bucky picked up speed behind him, arduously stuffing his phone in his front pant pocket as he sprinted to keep up. “She’s got a tranquilizer gun out there and she’s ready to shoot if necessary.”

“I don’t think Banner’s going to appreciate being shot,” Steve said wryly.

“She’s not going to shoot _Banner_ ,” Bucky chuckled. “She says your little friend put something in the air – people are smelling it as he walks by and going into a stupor.”

“It smells like cinnamon, right?” Steve grunted, throwing open the last security door; the air was thick here, the scent of cinnamon so overpowering Steve couldn’t help but sneeze over and over again. He doubled over, caught off guard by the strength of the sneezes and jammed his arm around the nearest safety railing to keep from going straight to his knees. Captain America, leveled by a powerful sneeze. The tabloids would have eaten it up. He wiped his nose on his arm, shaking his head as viciously as possible to chase the smell away.

“I…” Bucky started walking towards a side door, his eyes dark with lust, one hand stuffed down his pants, “so _pretty_ …”

Steve pushed him out of the way and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He locked it for good measure; Bucky pounded on the door with both his hands, sounding hysterical. “Steve – Steve what are you doing – he’s in there! I have to go in there!”

“You can’t come in Bucky,” Steve yelled, hoping that Bucky could hear him through the door.

Thankfully, Bucky didn’t seem coherent enough to know to pick the lock. He pounded uselessly on the door again, whining loudly when Steve still refused to let him in and then sank to the floor, disappearing from sight.

Steve turned around to assess the situation he had unwittingly thrown himself into once he was satisfied that they wouldn’t be interrupted. Bruce was sitting on a rolling chair at the back of the room beside Tony, who was busy spinning around and around on his own chair with the help of his tail. They were talking, loudly, and while Bruce did indeed look green that was probably because someone had dumped pistachio pudding on him; he seemed to be taking it in stride, actually smiling when Tony started stirring his coffee with his tail.

A little red dot appeared on Tony’s left shoulder; it did a slow circle and Steve knew at once that it was Natasha’s red dot sight he was seeing and not just someone’s laser pointer gone wild. He steadied a beaker filled with something blue and gelatinous before it could explode on the floor, and slipped past the stools so that he could put himself in between Natasha’s tranquilizer gun and Tony's meaty backside.

“Tony,” Steve called out, keeping his voice steady and calm. He approached as if he was trying to get closer to an animal that might easily spook, keeping his hands up to show Natasha that she didn’t need to fire. He regretted leaving his phone in his pocket, but the thought of reaching for something now made him nervous; he had no urge to end up with a dart in his ass even if the tranquilizers wouldn’t actually do anything to him, and while he trusted Natasha’s aim he didn’t want to risk an accidental deflection bringing the Hulk out to play.

Tony spun energetically on his chair blinking upside down at Steve with wide, almost frantic eyes. “Steve!” He righted himself and jumped up, sending the chair crashing into the wall as he dove at Steve. He kissed Steve’s cheeks, practically purring as he rubbed himself affectionately against Steve’s body. He grasped at Steve’s shirt tugging at it while his tail tried to explore the inside of Steve’s pockets. “They gave me _coffee_!” Tony said with a grin.

Steve carded his fingers through Tony’s unruly hair, trying to give it some semblance of order. “And who decided that was a good idea?” He delicately pulled Tony’s tail out from the front of his pants where it was attempting to slide into his briefs. “What did I say about the groping?”

Tony scowled, tugging at his tail until it wrapped itself around his waist. “Sorry.” He grabbed Steve’s hand, lifting it up and pressed a kiss to it. “Bruce and I were talking about Gamma radiation.” He smiled serenely at Bruce, who gave Steve a sheepish wave hello.

“Sorry Steve,” Bruce said, “I think I got him a little wired. I was having a –”

“ _Cappuccino_!” Tony crowed, punching the air in delight.

“Yes,” Bruce cleared his throat, “I was having a cappuccino, and he wandered in to talk about physic and electrical engineering – he wants to go into nuclear power too, but we haven’t gotten around to that yet.”

Tony nodded his head in agreement, bumping his forehead against Steve’s broad chest. “The technology in your world is so much more advanced – I want to speak with your instructors so that I can understand how to use the tools you have at your disposal. Mine are like toys by comparison.”

“Well, that’s… nice, but can you promise me a few things before you go do that?” Steve asked, keeping one eye on Tony’s tail.

Tony leaned heavily against Steve, peering up at him. “Of course! Whatever you want Steve.”

Steve planted a hand on Tony’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’d like you to be more careful with your powers.”

“Careful?” Tony turned towards Bruce, frowning. “Have I been using my powers?”

Steve stared at Tony in horror. “You… you didn’t _know_?”

Tony shook his head, scratching at the sugary bits of doughnut that were trapped in his beard. “I guess I didn’t notice. I haven’t ever really had to control my powers before. Everyone at home uses them all the time – we don’t stop unless we run out of energy. Is it a problem?”

“Tony,” Steve sighed, “you’ve been making people go _crazy_ – I had to lock Bucky outside because the pheromones or whatever it is you use are getting out of control. You can’t just wander around and manipulate people like that.”

“Why not?” Tony cocked his hip to the side, crossing his arms over his chest. “You use _your_ powers. Bruce says that you’re a super soldier – that you have fast regeneration, and extreme strength. Why do I have to control my powers if you don’t have to control yours?”

“I _am_ controlling mine Tony. I didn’t rip the door of its hinges when I walked in here, did I? I used my security access, and I don’t squash people or hurt them unless there’s no other way to stop them. That’s part of the responsibility of being an Avenger,” Steve said gently. “I get that you’ve never had to do those kinds of things before, but you have to understand that you can’t use your powers on people unless it’s an emergency. It’s not right to take away people’s free will.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying? I’m not allowed to be _me_?”

“I think he means,” Bruce cut in, “that you need to learn social etiquette for living on Earth. People don’t do the same things, and it would be embarrassing if you did something you shouldn’t, right?”

“I’m not a child,” Tony growled. His tail wrapped around his forearm as if to sooth him. “I know what social etiquette is. Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“We don’t think you’re stupid,” Steve said, reaching out to touch Tony’s shoulder. His hand was batted away; Tony backed up, his hip connecting with the table beside him hard enough to make the entire array jerk backwards.

“I’m disappointed in you Steve,” Tony sniffed disdainfully. “I thought you were different.” He vanished with a swish of his tail.

“Goddamn it!” Steve scowled at the spot Tony had been standing in, furious at being brushed off.

“Well that could have gone better,” Bruce said, picking up his abandoned coffee cup, “but then again, who knows. He’s very curious about the world, but he’s a tad on the touchy side. I’m kind of surprised he didn’t run off while I was talking with him. I had to tell him to knock it off with the pheromones too, but I think all that coffee he drank made him forget about that part of our conversation.”

“I assumed as much,” Steve sighed. “Do you think there’s anything we can do to find him again? I don’t even know how to get in contact with him. He just shows up whenever. Fury’s going to tear me a new one if I can’t get him to behave.”

Bruce laughed, slapping his knee. He wheeled his chair back into place and plopped down in front of the computer, turning the monitor around so that Steve could see what he had been working on. A word document was open filled with page after page of notes written out in bullet points. Each and every point was a question.

“What’s that?” Steve asked, wheeling Tony’s abandoned chair over. He leaned against it, mindful of the wheels.

“These are all the questions he was asking me. Most of them, as you can see, are about you in some form or another. Give him some time. He’ll probably calm down and wander back when he’s ready. I think he really likes you,” Bruce said, saving the document. “I’ll send you a copy.” He leaned back in the chair, nodding towards the locked door behind them where Bucky was banging away. “I think Bucky’s probably back to normal now. You might as well go let him in. I’m pretty sure the magic’s gone – it seems to leave pretty quickly when he’s not around.”

“What about you? Did he use any of it in here?” Steve sniffed the air as he unlocked the door, finding not even a hint of cinnamon.  

Bucky stepped in looking a bit sweaty but otherwise intact. His fists were red from all the pounding he had done on the door, but it was nothing a few days sleep couldn’t take care of; they were lucky that he had forgotten about his robotic arm’s increased strength, otherwise the door would have been a mangled mess.

“You alright Bucky?” Steve asked, checking Bucky’s hand over just in case something was wrong.

Bucky grumbled and pulled his hand back. “I’m fine. Feels like someone drove a city bus through my head, but it could be worse. He didn’t use any of that magic reefer crap in here, did he?” Bucky grunted, looking around as if expecting to see the residual magic floating about in the air.

“Oh no. He was pretty good about not using any of that in here. He ran into me in the hallway and I invited him into my lab as a safety precaution. We don’t honestly think he knew he was using his powers. Came off as kind of a playboy though – I had to ask him to stop feeling up the interns and when I did he got a little confused, like he thought that was what he was supposed to be doing. I think Natasha was ready to kill him when he kissed her on the cheek.” Bruce chuckled, adjusting his glasses. “She moves pretty fast. The place has been empty for almost an hour and half already because of her quick thinking.” He tapped the monitor again where a small circular bubble was blinking in the left hand corner of the screen. “Coulson says they’re ready to come back in whenever you think it’s safe.”

Steve sighed in despair, running his fingers through his hair. “I think it’s alright. I doubt he’s going to come back any time soon.”

Bruce shrugged, finishing off his coffee with a loud slurp. He threw the Styrofoam cup away, missing the garbage can and growled as the cup rolled back towards his feet. “Well, if you want him back, you might want to start stocking up on coffee. That bastard drank _seven_ cups while he was here, and I don’t think he was even remotely sick of it. Worse comes to worse, if you need to catch him go get a box, a stick, some string and a hot cup of coffee. You’ll catch him in no time.”

Steve laughed. “Sounds like a plan.”

 

 

Fury wasn’t happy even with Tony gone, although Steve really hadn’t expected him to be anything other than peeved by the massive breach in security. He led Steve to the smallest of SHIELD’s conference rooms and sat down at the head of the table with a notepad out. He scratched away with his pen as he listened to Steve talk about how Tony had gotten into their world. He fired off the same question four different ways, watching Steve carefully; Steve answered the same way every time, dreading the next round of questioning. Fury seemed to be picking at particular details and phrases, like how Tony had managed to get his way from the Arctic to New York without hitching a ride in the jet. Steve had wondered about that himself, but no matter how many times Fury asked he couldn’t tell him the right answer.

Fury tapped his pen on the notepad when Steve was finished talking again, leaving spots of blue ink in his wake. “You’re not particularly squeamish when it comes to sex, are you Captain Rogers?”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest but didn’t otherwise answer.

Fury tapped the notepad again, pursing his lips. “From what Doctor Banner has suggested, I think Tony will be coming back here for you at some point – and for you, I mean for your dick. Frankly, I don’t think you’ve got much choice in the matter unless you’re secretly the Ice Queen.”

“I don’t see what _that_ has to do with anything,” Steve griped, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. This didn’t quite feel like a conference room anymore; it felt more like he had walked into an interrogation by mistake. He didn’t like the way Fury kept staring at him. That look was far too predatory.

Fury slid the notepad across the table towards Steve with a low chuckle. “Take a look at this.”

Steve caught the notepad before it could hit him in the stomach, peering down at the neatly printed notes; what was written down wasn’t what he had been expecting to see, that was for sure. He had _expected_ to see some battle plans or maybe notes about what SHIELD was planning to do with Tony when they finally caught him – instructions that would be thrown into an incinerator after he read them because they would either be too illegal or too violent to be made public to anyone outside of the room. What had been written out was instead a rather detailed description of anal sex for beginners. The paragraphs were littered with keywords and numbers that were underlined and starred with the word _important_ beside them.

Steve’s first impulse was to throw the notepad back in Fury’s face with all his might. He maintained his composed and forced himself to read until the end of the page; this wasn’t exactly what he had thought he would be discussing with Fury when he had gone in to work that morning, but at least it didn’t seem to be any worse than it _could_ have been. At least there really _weren’t_ instructions that needed to be burned after reading. There was _that_.

“You consider yourself bisexual, right?” Fury asked, tapping the pen on the table.

Steve nodded stiffly.

“Then I’m assuming that you’ll be willing to take one for the team if it comes to that.”

“Sir?”

“Tony happens to be exceptionally smart – probably smarter than anyone on Earth at the moment. He’s not up to date with everything, but he’s catching up damned fast, and when he does he’s going to need someone looking out for his best interests. While he may have brains, he doesn’t exactly have common sense.” Fury let the pen drop to the table and clasped his hands in front of him, looking like the perfect gentlemen. “Let me put it this way. If you don’t win him over to our side, there’s the chance that he’ll be found and taken in by other less _savory_ individuals.”

“He’s a stubborn guy, sir. Honestly I don’t see how he’s going to fall for something like that. I don’t think he’s going to just let someone take control away from him,” Steve said.

“Yes, I get that, but you’re missing the point here Rogers. We have detailed reports on how to kill these creatures, and last night our servers were hacked.” Fury smiled when he saw Steve’s shock. “You know what that means as well as I do Rogers. Someone other than your little friend was poking around in our private servers, and if that information is in the wrong hands things could get very messy very fast. Tony might be an Incubus, but he’s not even remotely strong compared to the other demons we’ve encountered. There are a hell-of-a-lot more demonic creatures out there with far more power than he has and _some_ of them are even willing to work for humans for a fee. Think of what a brain like Tony’s could do in, say, the hands of The Mandarin – or Justin Hammer? Do you feel it’s worth the risk to leave him to his own devices?”

“No sir.”

“Then brush up on your romancing Rogers. If you like him, that’s fine. Good for you. If not – _learn_ to like him.”

 

 

 

 

Bucky had nearly busted a gut when he had first told him about what had happened in the conference room after Tony’s hasty departure; three days after that unpleasant conversation, Steve had found a rather large collection of Playgirls and other magazines on his bed in an unmarked box. He knew exactly who had left them behind and had been tempted to sneak them out to the dumpster. It wasn’t that he thought they were disgusting or anything; he had a few magazines of his own hiding in his closet, so it wasn’t like he was going to judge Bucky for having a stash of his own. His magazines weren’t nearly as graphic as some of the stuff Bucky had lent him, but they weren’t exactly home and garden magazines either. It was more that some of the magazines were a little dog-eared and Steve was pretty sure a few others were on the verge of falling apart after spending years in the loving service of, well, _service_. Some days it just felt like he and Bucky knew each other too well.

He had looked up most of what was on Fury’s list out of morbid curiosity; none of it had particularly shocked him. Some of it was stuff he had always kind of wondered about but had never thought to look up. The only part that had really bothered him was the part where Nick Fury had thought about all the same things and then decided to write up a list for him; that part was just plain disturbing.

By the time he was done for the night, Playgirls thoroughly analyzed and packed away to be returned in the morning, he had enough information to last him a life time. Tony, as expected, hadn’t shown his face again since their disagreement. Steve had been sent home by Coulson to continue his _research_ as a result of the twitchy eye he had developed, and while he enjoyed having time off he felt a little bad that everyone else was out there working the frontlines while he was sitting at home googling porn. He would have preferred to be out there trying to find out who the hacker was and where the information they had stolen had ended up. Porn was nice and all, but he didn’t really need to spend seven straight hours looking at it.

Steve crawled into bed, exhausted, irritated and horny as hell. Staring at definitions and how to videos on the internet wasn’t all that erotic; it had been clinical and precise, bordering on boring, and he had been fine with that. Of course he had been fine – it wasn’t like he had been jerking off to any of that – this was for work! But despite the boredom, his cock hadn’t stayed on the same wavelength as his brain; it was that last magazine’s fault really. He had tried to get them out of the way in the beginning by leafing through every last page available but somehow, his mind had drifted back to the last set of those glossy images of men standing around with their cocks out, their muscled bodies on display for anyone to see. He had seen male models in his art classes before the serum, so it wasn’t exactly surprising to see them all laid out like this, but for the first time they had looked _good_. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen men naked before either; soldiers didn’t have much in the way of modesty or privacy when they were out in the field. It was more that he had never really stopped and though about it for more than a few minutes at a time. There had always been something to do, some place to go.

He hiked the blankets up to his armpits debating on whether it would be a good idea to slide his hand down his between his thighs, and squinted at the clock. No, tonight would not be a good night. Bucky would be home soon, back from a long day of questioning scientists and civilians, and the last thing he needed was to walk in on his roommate masturbating when he stopped off to tell Steve all about the mission Steve had so inconveniently missed.

Steve closed his eyes, rolling onto his side so that his erection would get the hint and maybe calm itself down. Tony yawned, cuddling up against Steve’s back, his finger drumming rhythmically on Steve’s hip. It took Steve’s lust addled brain a few laborious seconds to determine what was now lounging against him, but once it did he was more than ready to roll over and give Tony a piece of his mind; he rolled over and then rolled back just as quickly. Tony buried his face in Steve’s neck, his tail flopping back and forth under the covers. Judging by Tony’s erection, he was clearly happy to see him; Fury had been right after all. Tony tugged at the blankets, trying to burrow for warmth.

“What happened to you clothes?” Steve asked, lifting the blanket so that Tony could slither completely underneath.

“I took them off,” Tony purred. “They got annoying.” He rubbed his hands up and down Steve’s side, pawing at the bulge in Steve’s briefs. “Is this for me?” he asked, fingers trying to trace the seams where the sides had been sewed together.

Steve swatted Tony’s hand away with a grunt. “Hands to yourself,” he muttered, hoping that he could keep it together; only the thought of Bucky walking in on them kept him from letting Tony do whatever he wanted.

Tony groaned in frustration. He pushed himself flat against Steve’s back as he tried to get his hands under Steve’s pajama shirt, searching for fresh skin to molest. “You’re so mean! I can’t do anything to you!”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t vanished on me you wouldn’t be in this predicament,” Steve muttered. A part of him was obscenely happy that Tony was curled up in bed with him, safe and sound; the other part was wondering just what Tony wanted from him. He let Tony have some leeway, allowing the Incubus’ warm hands to traverse the planes of his chest before capturing them between his own again. “I was worried about you.”

Tony snuggled closer, his tail wrapping around Steve’s arm like a bracelet. “I’m sorry I left. I wanted to do more research and you were making it hard to concentrate,” Tony murmured. “If it’s any consolation I’ve been thinking about you naked all day.”

“That’s nice,” Steve said, closing his eyes. “Go to bed.”

“But Steve....” Tony whined, pressing his groin tightly against Steve’s ass. “I really want to fuck.” He nosed against Steve’s ear and caught Steve’s earlobe in between his teeth, nipping gently. Steve muffled a groan with his hand and forced himself not to push back against the enticing bulge. His cock screamed for more friction. Every microscopic movement it got as it was inadvertently rubbed against the front of his briefs made him harder.

“Tony,” Steve hissed, practically inhaling his fist to keep himself from making any more noise.

Tony canted his hips forward again shamelessly trying to rub up against Steve’s bare thighs. His cock left a wet trail against Steve’s skin as he moved. “Don’t you want to… you know….”

“I want to go to sleep. It’s been a long day – I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past _three_ days and honestly Tony, I’m not in the mood,” Steve grunted. The last thing he wanted was for Tony to think he could get his way so easily, that he could be wrapped around Tony’s finger with a rough few touches. Thankfully, Tony decided to leave him alone instead of pushing the issue. He muttered out some nonsensical words that must have meant something crude in his language, and went to sleep.

Steve sighed tiredly. He reached over his hip and pulled Tony’s arms around him, pressing a kiss to each slackened finger. It was strange to be so attached to someone he didn’t really know; even with the war he had never grabbed hold of someone like this before. Women and men had offered, but somehow, he had never had the motivation or time to grab back. “I wish I knew what I was doing,” Steve murmured, rubbing his thumb over Tony’s knuckles. The skin there was scraped, the fingers calloused and scarred; he wished he could kiss the damage away, that he could make it better for Tony somehow. “I wish I knew what _you_ were doing.” Tony slept on, snoring into Steve’s shoulder like a chainsaw.

Just what had the Incubus been doing for the past few days? Were these scars new or old? He couldn’t remember what condition Tony’s hands had been in the day they had met, but he was pretty sure they hadn’t been this torn up. He thought about turning on the lamp beside his bed to get a closer look but hesitated. Tony seemed to need the sleep; it would be a shame to wake him. Steve rolled over slowly, taking his first good look at the sleeping Incubus since their argument in Bruce’s lab. Tony’s beard was a little longer than it had been, and on the left-hand side of his face it was singed like he had gotten too close to something before realizing the danger; there were dark rings around Tony’s eyes and a smudge of what looked like white chalk beside his nose. While the chalk smudges were endearing, the dark bags were just plain _frightening_. According to the files SHIELD had provided Steve with there shouldn’t have been _any_ bags around Tony’s eyes, even if he hadn’t slept in months.

What did that mean? Was something wrong? Was Tony sick? Steve tucked Tony’s hand against his chest, holding it loosely. If something was wrong, he reasoned, Tony would tell him, wouldn’t he? Steve yawned, pressing another kiss to Tony’s hand. He hoped that Tony would say something if he was in trouble; knowing someone for only a couple of days didn’t exactly make it an obligation, but it would still be nice to know if there was something he could do to help.

He fell asleep with the sound of Tony snoring behind him, dreaming of the Succubus world and how damned hot everything had been.

 

 

Steve woke up the next morning and found Tony sprawled across him like a second blanket. Somehow during the night he had ended up flat on his back with Tony and his tail taking up all the space left behind. Steve’s shirt was rucked up around his armpits as if it was trying to escape all on its own. Tony’s mouth was open; his face squashed against Steve’s bare chest, his breath hot and wet against Steve’s skin. His tail was wrapped around Steve’s pillow twitching away as if it were breathing too. It was oddly adorable, like he was staring at a mischievous kitten at rest.

Steve reached out and captured the tip of Tony’s tail in his hand, rubbing his thumb along the smooth skin. It didn’t feel all that different than human skin did, maybe just a tad smoother than normal. He marveled at the way the tail perked up at his touch. It rubbed back against Steve’s palm with a little wiggle as it struggled for a better position between Steve’s index finger and thumb. Steve captured it between his hands again, chuckling at the way it began to poke at his palm, intrigued by the way it seemed to have a mind of its own.

“Enjoying yourself?” Tony yawned, peering up at Steve through half lidded eyes.

Steve blushed, letting Tony’s tail drop back to the pillow. “Sorry,” he murmured, more ashamed at having been caught than anything else. “I didn’t think you were awake.”

Tony smiled lazily at him, stretching out against Steve’s chest until his nose was brushing against Steve’s chin. His tail curled lazily around Steve’s leg, prodding Steve in the kneecap when it was settled in comfortably. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t mind that you like to play around with it,” Tony said. He gave Steve a sloppy kiss on the chin when he saw that the slight blush on Steve’s face hadn’t gone away. “So, what are we going to do today?”

Steve yawned into his hand, trying not to breathe his horrible morning breath directly into Tony’s face; Tony wrinkled his nose anyway, lips twitching as he tried not to laugh. “So? Give a guy an answer, will you? What are we going to do today?” Tony chuckled. The bags under his eyes were gone as if someone had taken an eraser and simply rubbed them out of existence; he looked just as handsome as he had the first day they had met. Steve couldn’t help but feel grateful for that.

“Well, I’m going to go take a shower first and then I’m going to phone Director Fury to see what needs to be done – maybe check in with Bucky while I’m at it,” Steve said, gently lifting Tony up so that he could get out from under him. The man felt like skin and bones although he certainly didn’t look it; with all that muscle packed onto his small frame, Steve had expected him to at least weight more than the pillow did. “You’re so light,” he commented, running a hand absentmindedly down Tony’s back. When he realized what he was doing he grabbed for the blanket and dumped into on top of Tony, covering him up.

“It’s the magic,” Tony mumbled, staring grumpily up at Steve from his blanket cave. He scowled when Steve didn’t return to bed, his tail wiggling back and forth underneath the sheets. “I’m here now – you can’t be _seriously_ thinking about working at a time like this!”

“A time like this?” Steve laughed, raising an eyebrow. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” He watched Tony roll over, spinning around on the bed so that his feet were now resting comfortably on the pillows; thankfully they were nice and clean feet, otherwise Steve might have grumped at him for it. Still, Steve felt obliged to at least tell him off. “And do you mind? Pillows are not for feet.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Tony drawled, wiggling his toes inside the pillow case. “But if you were _here_ , I wouldn’t have to befoul your precious bedding.” Steve snorted, grabbing fresh clothing and underwear from his dresser before Tony could say something else to try and tempt him back into bed. He pushed open the bathroom door, taking care to avoid accidentally crushing the towel bar against the wall for the third time that week alone. Their apartment wasn’t the biggest, but it had been the best he and Bucky had found for the price they had been willing to pay; spending money on a place they rarely spent time in had seemed like a waste, and although Steve had a large chunk of cash saved up from the years he had spent on ice, he hadn’t wanted to waste it.

They had shopped around with a very small list of requirements and a very _specific_ cost to boot. It had been a hard and grueling search even with the help of SHIELD and a realtor but they had done it in the end. Their apartment had separate bathrooms just like they had wanted, although those bathrooms weren’t _nearly_ large enough for a super soldier or really _anyone_ over six feet tall to use comfortably; that was the price for living so close to the centre of the city, he supposed. Their bedrooms weren’t exactly spacious either. They only had enough room for a dresser and small table unless they wanted to stub their toes on everything. The rest of the apartment was a blend of kitchen and living room, the space big enough for a small gathering but not large enough for more than four or five people at a time unless they took turns migrating from the dining room to the couch. In all honesty, Steve was surprised that Tony hadn’t made any cracks about it the first night he had showed up. Tony’s old house had probably been bigger, and it had only had the one room.

Their apartment was a steal considering the location, and while Bucky had agreed to stick with it, they often bickered about what they had gotten themselves into. They could hear each other through the walls; Steve had heard more than his fair share of Bucky-and-lady-friend sex noises, not counting the ones he heard from the upstairs neighbors. It was a little tiring constantly having to stick his head out the window to drown the sounds out with the delightful cacophony of traffic, but he put up with it. He had debated on buying himself some noise canceling headphones and even toyed with the notion of ripping the walls down and insulating them properly himself, but so far he hadn’t done anything. SHIELD kept them fairly busy, and so did the Avengers Initiative.

Steve set his fresh clothes on top of the closed toilet lid and shuffled out of his pajamas, leaving them on the carpet; humming to himself, he turned the water on and waited the mandatory ten minutes for the hot water tank to heat up to acceptable levels, tapping his foot on the bathmat in time with the creaking of the pipes.

Tony slipped through the open door throwing himself against Steve’s back. He stretched out to stick his nose into the back of Steve’s ear, just where it made Steve’s knees the weakest. Steve became _distinctly_ aware then that he was both naked and in a room so small that they would probably be touching even if he _did_ try to move away. He grimaced, stepping into the shower with Tony practically hanging off of him, trying to get control of his body’s baser instincts. Tony’s tail swatted at the shower curtain in irritation when Steve pushed past it, clearly not appreciating the lack of space. The moment the water hit him, Steve groaned, scrubbing a hand through his greasy hair. Tony on the other hand hissed in displeasure and slid down Steve’s back, pressing his face between Steve’s shoulder blades, using him as a human shield. “That’s hot!”

“It’s not _that_ hot,” Steve sighed. “You’ll get used to it. If I turn it down it’ll be ice cold in two minutes flat.”

Tony yawned loudly, rubbing his scratchy chin against Steve’s back in a way that left Steve’s groin tingling pleasantly. “Why don’t you have a _bathtub_? Baths are much nicer than whatever this is called,” Tony groused, pinching Steve’s left nipple, making Steve squeak in surprise.

Steve pushed Tony’s hand away and grabbed the soap from the shower caddy, lathering up his chest; he rubbed at his now throbbing nipple, trying to ignore the way the water hitting it made it feel so much more arousing than it should have. “Bathtubs cost a lot more than a shower does. Besides, Bucky and I don’t fit in normal sized bathtubs, so it’s kind of a waste of space unless we get our hands on some kind of custom tub.”

“I don’t fit in a what-now?” The bathroom door snapped open and Bucky stalking in dressed in a pair of loosely fitting red and blue checker-board pajamas. He had a cup of hot coffee clutched in his hands as if it were a sceptre from a faraway kingdom he had raided and won kingship over. He slurped the coffee, idly eyeing the pair of them through the shower curtain. “So is this a private affair or can anyone join in?”

“I don’t think you’re going to fit,” Tony growled, wrapping himself possessively around Steve.

Steve sighed aloud, peeking out from behind the curtain. “Jeeze, is _everyone_ going to crawl into my shower today? If I’d known I would have let you pick that other apartment.”

“Well I _would_ ,” Bucky said waggling his eyebrows, “But I don’t think your boy toy likes that idea very much.”

“No, I do not,” Tony agreed with a grunt, glaring around Steve’s soapy shoulder. “He’s mine, so why don’t you just shove off? Go find someone else to hit on.”

The spray of coffee that came out of Bucky’s nose hit the shower curtain so hard it bumped against Steve’s knee. “I am not hitting on him!” Bucky roared, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He slammed his coffee cup onto the counter, sticking his head in the shower looking a little like he might start strangling Tony if only he could get his hands on him. Steve pressed his forehead up against the cool shower tiles. Well, he thought as he listened to Bucky and Tony squawk at each other, at least they weren’t out in public or rolling around on the floor pulling each other’s hair. It could have been worse.

 

 

“Ok,” Steve said as he finished toweling off himself and a reluctant Tony. “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here.”

Bucky sat down on the edge of Steve’s bed with a sneer on his face that would have made a super villain proud. He crossed his arms over his chest as he supervised what was going on in front of him. “Do you _have_ to dry him off? I don’t see a _piano_ tied to his ass,” Bucky grumbled. Tony blew Bucky a raspberry, leaning into Steve’s hands as Steve attempted to get the last of the water from his hair.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Steve mumbled scrubbing at Tony’s back with the damp towel. “He’s nice and clean now, so no murdering each other. It was hard enough to get shampoo into his hair the first time around.”

“Oh please, a little blood never hurt anyone,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “You’re just worried about the carpet again.”

“You got me.” Steve wrapped the towel around Tony’s middle, fixing it in place so that he wasn’t standing around naked. “I think we’re going to go to the store and get you some clothing today,” Steve mused. He eyeballed his mostly barren dresser, wishing that he had had the foresight to shop for some extra clothes when he had had the chance. There wasn’t really anything left in his dresser that was clean enough for Tony to wear, and even less that would fit him; most of it would be too baggy to be of much use. He could wrestle Tony into a pair of jeans he supposed, but he highly doubted that the Incubus would appreciate having his tail stuffed down one the pant legs all day long considering the fuss he had made while in the shower.

“Clothing?” Tony growled, staring at the dresser with intense dislike, “I don’t need _clothing_. Just stay here with me today. It’s fine – I don’t need clothing if I’m with you.”

Steve patted Tony gently on the shoulder. “Look, no offense, but it might be best if we make sure that you don’t stand out so much in a crowd. There might be people after you, and you’ll be really easy to spot if you’re the only naked guy in the crowd. We’ll just take a quick trip to the store, and I promise I’ll make it worth your while after, alright?” He turned to Bucky, hoping that his friend liked him enough to not shoot him for what he was about to suggest. “Can he borrow some clothing from you Bucky? My stuff all needs to go into the wash.” He slapped his hands over his ears when both Bucky and Tony started yelling. He wasn’t exactly unsurprised by the reaction, but he had hoped that they would at least be willing to think about it before roaring way like territorial animals.

“I’m not wearing his clothing! He’s disgusting!”

“I’m not giving my clothing to this _freak_ of nature!”

They glared at each other, eye flashing, fists raised as if ready to attack; Tony’s tail whipped back and forth, the tip taking on a particularly vicious looking edge. Bucky reached behind him for something stuffed down the back of his pajamas, his eyes locked on Tony’s tail. Steve drew himself up to his full height, taking in a deep breath; he hated using his Captain America voice outside of work, but this was just plain _ridiculous_. “Knock it off you two,” he said, trying to keep a level voice. They looked away from each other, staring sullenly at the carpet, hands and tail drooping. At least they had both had the decency to look properly chastised.

“Now look. I get that you two don’t like each other, but Bucky I’d really appreciate it if you lent him something to wear so that I can take him out to the mall. I’ll buy you some new stuff if that’s what it takes to get you to say yes, but I need to get him clothed and ready to go as soon as possible,” Steve said. Bucky had always had a soft spot for new t-shirts; he hoped that it would be enough to get him to agree, even if all he did was hand over his ugliest items of clothing.

“I don’t see why you have to go out of your way to go buy him stuff,” Bucky muttered as he adjusted whatever it was he had hidden behind him. “It’s not like SHIELD can’t just get some stuff in his size. Fury’ll give you an expense account or something if you ask.”

“But he doesn’t work for SHIELD,” Steve pointed out grabbing one of his plaid shirts from his cramped closet, trying not to trample the collection of art books he had stored there. He gave the shirt a sniff, trying to determine whether it was clean or not. Pretty much everything in his closet smelled like those god awful bounce sheets Bucky kept stashing all over the house; he was getting damned sick of smelling like one, but no matter how many times he threw the boxes out they kept mysteriously reappearing back on top of the washing machine. He turned around, expecting to see irritation in Bucky’s face and found only a strangely uncomfortable look instead; he didn’t know what it meant, but after so many years of living with Bucky at his side he was pretty sure that it didn’t mean anything good.

“Fine,” Bucky huffed, standing up. “But you owe me big time pal.” He prodded Steve in the chest, casting a dark look at Tony. “I’ll be right back. He’d better not get my stuff dirty or I’m going to skin him alive.”

 

 

Shopping with Tony turned out to be easy. Steve had initially thought that Tony might be ready to kick up a fuss about every little thing, but surprisingly he seemed more curious than vengeful; it took them a bit to figure out what would fit, but after they had the right sizes it was pretty much a walk in the park. Tony perused racks of t-shirts and jeans with a slight spring in his step, pausing every once in a while to feel the fabric between his fingers; his tail stayed out of sight for the most part, as if he was afraid of what would happen if someone spotted it. Steve still felt it against his arm or back on occasion, and was glad to see that it was behaving itself for once.

After the first walk around Tony had four or five shirts draped over Steve’s arm; after picking through shirt patterns at an alarming rate, he seemed content with what he found. He even started _smiling_.

Once ushered into the dressing room, Tony proceeded to try on every last thing without prompting, preening at the sight of himself in the mirror; he spent quite a few minutes bending over, staring at his own ass, which in turn had Steve busily staring at jackets and shoes to avoid getting caught doing his own staring. The essentials like underwear and socks were picked up just as easily as the shirts and pants, and Steve was extremely thankful that those didn’t have to be tried on. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take without having to duck into a bathroom to deal with his little problem.

 

 

Tony wore some of his new clothing out of the store, getting the cashier to clip the tags off; he had fit Bucky’s things a little better than Bucky had and while he hadn’t minded wearing the borrowed clothing initially, he had seemed strangely eager to get as far away from it as possible once he had new things to wear. Steve folded Bucky’s clothing up and put it in a separate bag so that Bucky could do whatever he wanted with it when they got home. The clothes would _probably_ go into the wash, but with Bucky you could never really know for sure. He hoped that Bucky wouldn’t start a fire in the kitchen sink again. Their neighbors had complained about the burning smell far too many times for it to be even remotely funny anymore, not that Steve had _ever_ found it funny to begin with.

 

They stopped at Jamie’s Burger Shack for lunch. That wasn’t the treat Steve had promised, but Tony didn’t seem to mind. Tony hadn’t bothered to look up any of Earth’s culinary delights when he had been doing his research, so Steve was forced to explain pretty much every item on the menu to him; it made him a little nostalgic. He had done the same for Thor when the Prince of Asgard had first arrived on Earth.

They ordered greasy bacon cheeseburgers and milkshakes and sat together in a booth, watching passersby through the window beside them as it started to rain.

“What is that?” Tony asked, peering at the droplets of water streaking their way down the glass. He traced the watery line left behind with his finger, gnawing on his lower lip.

“That’s rain,” Steve said, helping the waitress set their food out. He handed Tony a strawberry milkshake and started in on his burger inhaling everything like this was the first meal he had had in years; breakfast had been a sombre affair seeing as how he had been rushing Tony out the door to keep him from making a break for it.

Tony nibbled at his food, warily watching the rain. His tail drew perfect circles in the condensation, hiding whenever someone walked by the window or table.

“They don’t have rain where you’re from?” Steve asked, taking a sip of his chocolate milkshake.

Tony shook his head, licking cheese off his lower lip. “We do, but we don’t have much in the way of weather most of the time aside from sunshine. It only rains when the Queen is angry.” He shrugged, picking a piece of tomato off the burger, lips curled in distaste. “What are these?”

“They’re called tomatoes,” Steve said, taking Tony’s abandoned tomato and stuffing it into what was left of his burger, burying it beneath the patty so that it would stay put. “They’re a type of fruit.”

“Have we eaten these before?”

“They cook them up and put them in sauces like the spaghetti we had the other night,” Steve said with a smile.

Tony stared at Steve’s mouth in shock. “You’re _kidding_.”

Steve laughed. “Sadly no. But don’t feel too bad. A lot of people don’t like tomatoes but like tomato sauce and ketchup. It’s a textural thing – well, that and they put a lot more sugar in the other kinds of things tomatoes are in.”

Tony cocked his head to the side, a fry hanging jauntily from his lower lip. “Where do you get your food from? Aside from this kind of establishment, I mean. We have farms back home that deliver to the castle and villages, but I haven’t seen any in my travels here.”

“We have farms too, although they’re usually far away from the cities because there’s not a lot of space for them nearby anymore. We get food shipped in from all sorts of places. You should see the fruit aisle sometime.” Steve finished the last of his burger in two bites, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “Back when I was born you couldn’t get half the stuff they have here now.”

“Back when you were born? I was under the impression that this wasn’t exactly new stuff.” Tony frowned. “Maybe I should look at more of your historic tomes. It seems like I’ve missed things.”

“Uh… well, I’m not actually from this time period,” Steve said softly. This was probably the first time he had met someone who didn’t know his life story or about Captain America; it was oddly refreshing and yet terrifying at the same time.

Tony raised an eyebrow, not quite startled by the information but clearly intrigued. “What do you mean?” He took a large bite of his burger when Steve didn’t immediately answer, getting mustard all over his chin as he fought with an unruly piece of onion. Steve reached across the table and wiped at the yellow patch with a napkin; it was so easy to reach out and touch Tony like this. He wondered if it was because Tony liked him, or because Tony liked being touched.

Tony grinned at him, nearly putting his elbow in his fries as he tried to squash himself against Steve’s hand. “So you’re not from around here?” Tony teased.

“Well this is the year 2013. I was born in 1922.” Steve set the napkin down, not sure how to phrase things without sounding like a crackpot. Thor had asked him the same questions, and it had been just as confusing then as it was now; there were just so many things they had missed, so many years to summarize and so little time to do it all in. “I was frozen in time in 1943 while trying to stop the Red Skull. We were fighting in the Second World War, and I had to crash his plane in the Arctic Ocean. He was trying to drop bombs on American soil. Millions of people could have died.”

“How long do humans usually live?” Tony asked, looking concerned. “That would make you in your nineties, wouldn’t it? Is that bad? Wait – I thought you said you were younger than that!” His tail began to play with the salt and pepper shakers, twirling around them until they were wrapped up so tightly they were barely visible underneath layer upon layer of tail.

“I didn’t really age when I was frozen. Physically I’m only a few years older than I was when I crashed into the ice,” Steve said. “I guess normal humans are supposed to live to their nineties or a little bit older. You’d have to ask a doctor or look it up though. I’m not really sure about the actual numbers. From what I’ve read, they change depending on where you live in the world.”

“You never looked it up? Didn’t you want to know how much time you have left?” Tony looked scandalized. “That seems kind of _stupid_ of you Steve.”

“Well, it’s not that I don’t know how people age. I’ve seen what aging is like; I’m just not really sure what it’s going to be like when _I_ age. There isn’t exactly a manual for Super Soldiers that I can flip through, Tony. I mean, most people get wrinkles and their hair goes grey, but I’m not even sure if that’s possible for me because of the way the serum affects the way my cells regenerate. Ever since I’ve had the serum I’ve been the _same_. It’s… weird,” Steve murmured sourly. He had wondered what his aging would be like, had feared finding out what might happen. The thought of outliving Bucky – of outliving _everyone_ he knew all over again made him feel nauseous. He wasn’t sure he could sit by and watch his friends age while he didn’t; it had been bad enough waking up to find the people he had known dead after sleeping the years away trapped in the ice.

None of the scientists intrusted with samples of his blood had been able to give him a definite answer about what would really happen as he grew older even after years of access to fresh samples. The Serum’s secrets had died with Doctor Erskine, and so far it seemed like they would stay that way. Most of those working on the Serum nowadays seemed to think Steve wouldn’t physically age after he hit thirty; they were excited by the news, thrilled to think that they might someday have the recipe for immortality. It was hard to suss out what was the truth and what would likely never come to pass. He made a mental note to ask Bruce about it later; he might not get an answer from him either, but Bruce might be able to explain things a bit better. The Hulk had been an attempt at recreating the Super Soldier Serum after all, even if it had failed.

“So you weren’t always like this? They gave you something to make you more powerful? I guess that makes sense. Soldiers are supposed to be strong after all.” Tony nodded his head, eating a handful of French fries with a distinctly pleased look on his face; he had taken a shine to salt and had been going out of his way to lick at _anything_ salty since first tasting it which had included the back of Steve’s sweaty neck. That hadn’t been an entirely comfortable experience seeing as how Tony had done it in front of a group of exchange students looking at sportswear, but at least he had promised not to do it again.

“I used to be really scrawny and sickly when I was younger. If my mom hadn’t been a nurse I probably wouldn’t have made it past puberty,” Steve said, stuffing the rest of his burger into his mouth. “I used to think that I’d be bed ridden forever some days. If Doctor Erskine hadn’t picked me, I don’t know what I would have done.”

The fry Tony had been eating dropped to the table with a wet thud. Tony’s eyes were wide with horror. “You’re kidding.”

“I have a box of pictures back home that prove it,” Steve smiled weakly. “They’re not very nice though, so I’m not sure if you’d really want to look at them.”

“Oh no, no, no – I want to look. Why would you think I wouldn’t want to look? You can show them to me when we get back,” Tony demanded, snatching up his fry. He blew on it as if to blow away dust and then popped it back into his mouth. “And your friend, what’s his name?”

“Bucky?”

“He’s from your time too?”

“Yes, he is. He was taken prisoner by an enemy organization. I can’t go into specifics here, but I can say that they put him in cryostasis when they didn’t need him.” Steve reached for a fry. His plate was suspiciously empty considering he hadn’t started in on his fries yet. “Hey, did you – never mind.” He watched as Tony’s tail came up from under the table and stole the remaining fry from his plate; Tony’s plate, on the other hand, was still piled high with fries.

“SHIELD found Bucky and woke him up a year after they found me. It was really rough for a while there – he barely knew me anymore. It took us almost months to get him back to being… well, _Bucky_.”

Tony sipped at his milkshake, licking at the straw. “Was this Red Skull thing responsible for that too?”

Steve shook his head. “Red Skull is super soldier created from a failed attempt at recreating the serum Erskine made. The group that took Bucky wasn’t with the same people. I’m not sure what we would have done if he had been brainwashed by Nazis on top of everything else.”

“Nazis? I take it those are bad?” Tony murmured, popping another stolen fry into his mouth.

“Yes Tony,” Steve grunted, stealing some of his fries back from Tony’s pile. “It’s all in the files I gave you, remember?”

“Right.” Tony straightened up in his seat, setting the salt and pepper shakers down right side up; the trail of salt and pepper along the side of the table was in two parallel lines so precise they looked like someone had taken a ruler to them. How he had managed it while stealing fries at the same time Steve didn’t know. “I think we should go see this grocery store you talked about. I want some fruit.”

“Fruit?” Steve asked, baffled. “Why fruit?”

“An e-book I was reading said that some types of fruit act as aphrodisiacs. I’d like to test that theory out.” Tony turned, flashed the waitress a winning smile. “Check please!”

 

 

By the time Tony was satisfied that he had gotten absolutely _everything_ he needed from the local Farmer’s Market for his ‘experiment’, they found themselves lugging around five bags of fruit. Steve hadn’t been so keen on spending over a hundred dollars on produce, but the look on Tony’s face when he had approached the till had made it hard to say no. They carried everything home or rather Steve carried everything home while Tony walked beside him carrying the bill and Steve’s emergency umbrella slung over his shoulder like a rifle. The walk itself was nice, albeit a bit awkward. He had to keep steering Tony away from other pedestrians; more than a few narrowly avoided getting their eyes poked out by the sharp end of the umbrella.

 

When they got back to Steve’s apartment, Tony vanished into Steve’s bedroom and came back out carrying a leather-bound book and a stump of lead; he made notes as he walked back to the table, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. He went about setting up his ‘experiment’ on the dining room table, washing and plating fruit with the little knife Bucky had bought at the county fair a few years back. Steve had watched, expecting to see Tony taste testing the food himself; it had been stupid to assume that of course. He should have known better.

Steve had never been force fed fruit before.

It was a lot harder to choke down than he had expected. He watched Tony record results in the book, chewing away at another square of cantaloupe. Tony sampled pieces on occasion, but all in all he seemed almost uninterested in it, more detached and observant than hungry. Hansel and Gretel crept into Steve’s thoughts uninvited as he ate a handful of raspberries. If he hadn’t already known that Tony was a scientist he might have been deeply concerned by the behavior.

By the time Bucky found his way home Steve was sitting on the couch with his jeans unbuttoned and unzipped trying not to fall asleep; he hadn’t felt this full in a long time, and while the serum made digesting easy, the sugar from the fruit was wreaking havoc on his brain. Tony sat down on the arm of the couch casually twisting cherry stems into knots with his tongue enjoying the way Steve couldn’t stop watching him. He looked over when he heard the door open, giving Bucky a now customary glare and then went back to bumping Steve in the belly with his toes.

“Are you still full?” Tony asked, spiting the pit from his cherry into a napkin where the other stems were already taking up residence.

“Yes,” Steve groaned, pushing Tony’s toe away from his bellybutton, “so stop asking. I’m not eating more fruit.”

Bucky pulled off his leather jacket, spotting the takeout Steve had brought home for him; he lunged for it as if Tony might beat him to it and set about cannibalizing the mostly cold burger and fries with ruthless efficiency. He stripped the burger down, eating in in sections, his eyes glinting maliciously whenever Tony’s tail moved. “What’s with all the fruit?” Bucky asked between bites.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Tony,” Steve chided, praying that his stomach wasn’t going to explode if he had to get up and pull them apart. He hadn’t ever had the chance to test how much he could eat in one sitting, and he was starting to wish that he actually had so that he had a better frame of reference. Throwing up all over the couch was something he wasn’t looking forward to now or in the future, and it would have been nice to know just how close he was to doing it. With all the tests they had run on him at SHIELD, he was surprised that this hadn’t been one of them.

Bucky finished his burger, making short work of the fries; watching him was a little like watching a blender while it was running. First the food was there, and then it was gone. He had cultivated that particular talent while out in the trenches, foraging in ration bags behind enemy lines; if food was there, you ate it and you did it fast before the rats got to it. “So,” Bucky said, throwing his trash into the bin under the sink with a graceful toss, closing the cabinet door with his foot. “Did you give him the phone yet?”

Steve groaned miserably, leaning back to stare at the ceiling as he fished Tony’s new phone out of his pants pocket. He handed the cellphone to Tony, who swiped it from him eager to investigate.

Tony had the phone flipped over and turned on before Steve could even explain how to get it running. He navigated the UI easily, flipping through menus and options so fast the phone had problems keeping up with him. When he was finished exploring seemingly satisfied with everything he had seen he dropped down into Steve’s lap, grinning mischievously. “Does it have your number in here?”

“Yes,” Steve grumbled, shifting Tony away from his bloated stomach. “All you need to do is press speed dial one and you’ll be able to call me. You know how to do that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony flapped hand dismissively at him. “And the building I visited – with Bruce? Is that in here too?”

“That’s speed dial three. Bucky is speed dial two.”

“Why would I need _him_?” Tony scowled, fingers moving over the touch screen.

“He’s my emergency contact, so don’t delete him, alright?” Steve said. “I’m going to go lie down for a while… just… don’t kill each other, alright?” He struggled up and waddled towards his bedroom, his limbs heavy, his stomach finally content enough to call off what he had once thought of as ceaseless rumbles.

“Hey!” Tony struggled upright, the phone clutched tightly in his hand. He caught up to Steve far too easily, wrapping an arm around Steve’s middle while leaning peaceably against Steve’s shoulder. “I’ll come too. I like naps.”

“But –” Steve protested.

“I make a very nice pillow,” Tony purred, shooting a look over his shoulder at Bucky. “Come on Steve.”

Bucky snorted, taking up Steve’s position on the couch. He pulled the remote towards him with his foot and flicked the television on, sighing as the weather channel sprung to life. “Go nap,” he said, his eyelids drooping as the weather lady started chattering away about the rain.

Steve lumbered off with Tony guiding him through the darkness to his bed.

 

 

 

Steve stumbled towards home with Bucky at his heels feeling like every last bit of energy in his body had been drained away. They had broken up two Hydra bases in three days with near constant fighting, and while things had gone better than expected he was just about ready to lie down on the carpet and die.

He wondered what Tony had been up to while they had been away. They had been forced to leave him behind in their apartment when the call had come in, much to his and Bucky’s chagrin; Tony hadn’t been too pleased about it either, but he had claimed that he had ‘things to do’, so he hadn’t been too irritable when they had left at four thirty in the morning.

So far the building didn’t look like it was on fire; Steve was pretty sure their neighbors would have reported something by now if there had been one. The hallways were empty; their footsteps muted and dull as they made their way to their front door. Being gone a week made everything feel more foreign than usual, like they had stepped into a silent movie. It was all the same and yet there was a stillness to it that hadn’t been there before; normally there were people rushing off to work, or someone sending garbage out to the chute in their bath robe. Tonight, there was nothing, not even a whisper of feet on carpet.

Steve pushed his key into the lock, getting it open after three tries. They staggered into the house, bumping shoulders as they tried to make it through the door at the same time. Steve sniffed the air, his brain turning the new information over like a stalled car trying to start on an icy day. Was someone _cooking_? He slunk inside, yanking off his shoes; Bucky rammed into him from behind, grunting in surprise. “Hey,” Bucky slurred tiredly, slapping Steve on the back, “don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” Steve yawned, hobbling forwards.

Tony was in the kitchen leaning against the stove with a spatula in hand. He was wearing a light pink apron with the words Kiss the Cook emblazoned on the front. Tony twirled towards the sound of shoes hitting the floor, glaring at the intruders. He perked up when he saw who it was, setting the saucepan down on the stove with a clatter. The spatula flew onto the counter, landing sauce side up. He threw himself at Steve, burying his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, planting kisses on every inch he could reach.

Bucky tossed his shoes into a heap, his knees and ankles popping unpleasantly as he stretched out to lock the door.

“What did I say about fucking in the living room?” Bucky said, mock gagging. He eyeballed the rest of the apartment suspiciously as he tried to see around Steve’s shoulders, clearly thinking that something was wrong. Everything was clean for the most part, although the microwave was currently in pieces spread out on top of the coffee table like a jigsaw puzzle.

“I made you dinner!” Tony said. He sniffed the air and quickly spun around, rushing back to his cooking; Steve blushed bright red, clearing his throat. He traded looks with Bucky when he realized that the apron was pretty much the only thing Tony was wearing. He tugged at the neck of his shirt feeling as if it had suddenly gotten inexplicably tighter.

“Uh, may I ask why you are cooking in the buff?” Steve croaked.

Tony’s tail grabbed the spatula from the counter, handing it over his shoulder to his waiting hand. He hummed to himself, setting aside a bunch of sauce splattered tin foil. “Oh. Yeah, sorry about that. I ran out of clothing and didn’t want to bother washing anything until you got back. It’s not like I _need_ to be in clothing. No one cares if I’m naked in _here_ ,” Tony said, scraping everything onto a massive serving plate Steve hadn’t even realized he had owned. “Well that’s not entirely true.” Tony smirked. “The guy who lives directly across from you figured it out, but I don’t think he minded all that much.” He turned on his toes, sliding across the linoleum to the kitchen table, setting the platter down. “I put this thing on,” Tony said, flicking the apron strings at Steve’s arm, “because I kept splattering myself with hot grease, and didn’t feel like putting any ice on my junk.”

“Oh jesus,” Bucky groaned, flopping down limp as a noodle on the couch. He buried his head in his hands. “Can we have just _five_ minutes where we’re not discussing your junk? _Please_?”

Tony sneered at Bucky, his tail stiffening at his side like he had been electrocuted. “I’m going to ignore that because Steve looks hungry.” He turned his back on him to go fetch the dishes.

Steve _was_ hungry. He had been debating on phoning for take out on the way back, but neither he nor Bucky had been able to pick what they wanted. His stomach growled so loudly it seemed like it had somehow managed to get a hold of a megaphone; he flushed in embarrassment. “It was a nice thought Tony. Thank you.”

He allowed Tony to push him into a seat and got his hands slapped when he tried to reach for whatever it was Tony had cooked up for them. “Ow!” he grumbled, even though it hadn’t really hurt.

“Let me serve it.” Tony smiled, retrieving serving spoons and forks with his tail. “I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

Bucky reluctantly peeled himself off of the couch, rubbing the back of his neck. He joined them at the table, peering at the steaming platter with trepidation. “What the hell is that?”

“This is an adaptation of my old butler’s favourite dish. I don’t think it has a name in your world, but it’s something like one of those casserole meals you supposedly make. It’s made with blueberries, twisty noodles, yellow cheese and a jar of that creamy white sauce I found in the cupboard.” Tony beamed. He scooped Steve and Bucky out portions that would have made a sumo wrestler’s eyes water in gratitude. “And don’t worry, I taste tested it first, so it’s not poisonous.” He set the serving spoon down, licking his fingers clean and dug in to his own bowl, eagerly devouring his creation.

Steve and Bucky exchanged worried looks and then took tentative bites; it wasn’t bad once you got past the fact that it looked a little like melted ice cream had accidentally fallen into a bowl of pasta. The combination of sweet and salty was a little off putting, but it was better than nothing.

“So what did you get up to this week?” Steve asked while destroying a second portion. It wasn’t so bad really once you got used to it; he wouldn’t mind eating it again.

Tony rested his chin on his hand, counting things off on his fingers. “Well, firstly I went to one of your world’s leading universities – some place called M.I.T – to watch some of your educators talk about electrical engineering for a few days, and then I wandered in on a discussion on biomechanics and Nano technology. Then I went to a cooking class and talked with a few of the people who work in your book stores for recommendations about etiquette and culture.” He wiped sauce off his chin, licking his fingers afterwards when he noticed that a piece of blueberry skin had found its way onto his fingernail. “I don’t think I’ll have to go back there though. It was pretty easy stuff once I read through the tomes that came with the classes. I don’t really see why all the students were so neurotic.”

Steve paused, fork held in front of his face. “You went all the way to M.I.T and then…. Wow. That sounds like a lot of travel time.”

Tony shrugged, stealing a squishy blueberry off of Steve’s plate. “No more than usual. I tried to stick to a schedule so that I was home for an hour or two before going back out again.”

“An hour?” Steve cleaned his plate and set his fork down, settling back against his chair with his eyes half closed; it had never felt comfortable sitting at the table before, but right now he could have fallen asleep in it as easily as if it were in a feather bed. Bucky slumped against the table with a plate rattling yawn.

“I don’t need much sleep in order to function,” Tony said, clearing the plates away. He stuffed everything into the dish washer and shut it with his hip, humming to himself.

“Dishwasher’s broken,” Bucky grunted, scrubbing a hand through his greasy hair.

“ _Was_ broken – I fixed it three days ago and improved the water efficiency to match the modern day appliances I saw at SHIELD,” Tony said. He threw open the fridge nearly blinding them with the light and hauled out a plastic wrapped cake. He gathered up plates and forks for dessert, clearly pleased with their looks of disbelief. “Oh, and your fridge light died, so I replaced that too. And your bathroom lights were dim, so I got you some new ones – the store had some nice energy efficient ones that I wanted to take apart. And I fine-tuned your stove so it cooks the way it’s supposed to instead of just burning everything.”

“I’m assuming you used the debit card I left you.”

“Yes, Steve,” Tony chuckled. He set the cake down and started cutting perfectly even pieces with a knife Steve was _very_ sure he hadn’t had before. “I took apart your vacuum cleaner and fixed the wiring problem it had that was causing that weird crackling sound too.” He set a plate of cake in front of Steve, shoved one across the tabletop to Bucky and then dug into his own. “And I bought some dishes and cutlery. Yours was worn out.”

“Did you _make_ this?” Bucky asked, stabbing at the cake with his fork.

“I made it in my baking class. It’s supposed to be chocolate gateau,” Tony mumbled through a mouthful of cake. “It’s good, right? I wasn’t really sure what chocolate was supposed to look like but the instructor said it was alright.”

“It’s very good,” Steve said, finishing off his own piece with a burp. He covered his mouth sheepishly. “Sorry.” It was strange to be sitting down to a homemade meal; he had dreamed once of having a wife and children, a proper family, but this seemed just right to him. With Bucky on one side and Tony on the other, it felt like a real home.

Home...

Steve looked down at the cake crumbs stuck to his plate. Peggy had talked about all sorts of things when they were together. They had talked about what home would be like during the war, but it had never felt real to him; home had been with Bucky in the trenches, not sitting at a dining room table eating a fancy sit down dinner. He tried to push away the wave of guilt and sadness that bubbled up at Peggy’s memory, forcing himself to stare at the tabletop until her smiling face went away.

Tony cleared the plates away in a flash and then settled himself on Steve’s lap, his tail wrapping gently around Steve’s forehead. It stroked at his hair, rubbing gently against his ears.

“I demand to be taken to bed," Tony said.

“Fantastic – don’t make too much noise,” Bucky grumbled, shoving his chair back. He hauled himself up, cracking his back and knuckles and then slunk off muttering, “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Alright, so bed?” Tony asked hopefully. He grinned when Steve hoisted him up, arms wrapping around Steve’s neck. “Oh good, _finally_.”

“Don’t get too excited,” Steve yawned. He shuffled to his bedroom and pushed the door open, making sure he didn’t accidentally bang Tony’s head on the doorframe.

Tony carded his fingers through Steve’s hair, smoothing down the greasy strands on the back of Steve’s neck. “You look like you had a busy week too,” Tony said as Steve gently set him down on the bed; Steve fumbled with his clothing, his eyelids suddenly unbearably heavy.

“No more than usual,” Steve murmured. He crawled into bed and made room so that Tony could wrap around him.

He was asleep in seconds.

 

 

“Hey, wake up!”

Steve screamed as he woke; something tapped him on the side of his head and he grabbed for whatever it was without thinking, still half in the arms of his usual ice nightmare. Tony’s cry of pain was like a foghorn, calling out to him. The nightmare dug its claws in as Steve struggled with consciousness, images of ice and blood flashing before his eyes.

Tony tugged at Steve’s fingers one by one as he tried to get his tail free. He squealed when Steve’s grip tightened around his tail again. “Hey – _don’t_!”

Steve bolted upright looking around the room wildly. He caught sight of Tony’s terrified eyes and quickly opened his hand when he realized what he had been grabbing. Tony hugged his tail against his chest, his cheeks wet with tears of pain.

“What did you do that for?” Tony snapped, sounding hurt.

“Shit – I’m sorry!” Steve gasped. “I was having a nightmare… and it… it…” He let out a shaky breath, frantically wiping his sweaty palms on the sheet under him.

Tony didn’t look the least bit impressed by his answer. He glared at Steve as he rubbed life back into his tail. “Well that was a real shit thing to do you know – there’s a lot of nerves in my tail, and you can’t just grab at it like you would someone’s hand. It’s like grabbing someone by the dick.”

“I’m sorry ok? I didn’t – it’s not like I was –” Steve struggled out of bed, hurrying into the bathroom as a wave of nausea bubbled up. He shut the door behind him, running water until he could breathe normally again without gasping for air. He tried valiantly not to throw up in the sink. He was drenched in sweat, his shirt practically see-through; his spot on the bed was likely one giant wet spot by now.

He tugged at the neck of his shirt peeling it off one sticky inch at a time and grabbed his towel from the bar, rubbing at himself, trying desperately to sop up every last drop of sweat. He dropped his shirt to the floor, leaning heavily against the sink. The water ran cold in front of him, burbling unpleasantly.

His breath caught in his throat again when he splashed himself in the face.

The nightmare had been bad this time, worse than anything he had dreamed up before. He had been under the ice, only this time there had been someone trapped with him and they had been dying, crying out and pleading in a language that Steve couldn’t understand. He had slowly fallen asleep as they had tried to talk to him. He had drifted in and out, hearing snippets of conversation until the other person had been _screaming_ and _screaming_ , clawing at the ice until their nails were bloody and ragged. Steve shuddered. His skin felt like it had been rubbed all over with sandpaper.

He heard the door open behind him and hung his head, wanting to crawl into the shower to get out of the way, ashamed of what he had done to Tony’s poor tail. Bile rose up in his throat; he gagged, pleading for his stomach to just leave him _alone_.

Tony’s hand was warm on Steve’s back. He rubbed soft circles between Steve’s shoulder blades. His tail rubbed jerky circles against Steve’s hip. “Hey,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek. He leaned closer, wrapping himself around Steve as tightly as he could. “It’s fine. You’re fine. I’m fine. It was an accident. You didn’t mean it.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered hoarsely, squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn’t chase away the cold, even with Tony’s warm body pressed up against him. It clung to his fingers and toes, creeping across his skin as it tried to get at his heart. “I’m… I shouldn’t have grabbed your tail.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” Tony said. “I’m sorry.” He kissed Steve’s cheek again and it was different somehow; there was no need, no lust in this kiss only comfort and softness. “Come back to bed baby, its fine. Well get through this together, alright?”

Steve nodded, allowing himself to be tugged back to bed. He closed his eyes as Tony tucked them both back in, pressing his face into the nape of Tony’s neck, the soft scent of cinnamon tickling his nose. Tony ran his fingers through Steve’s hair, murmuring softly, “It’s alright. I’m here, it’s alright. You’re fine.”

“Thank you,” Steve said. He didn’t want to sleep, would have been happy never sleeping again in fact; Tony pressed a kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose and then there was nothing Steve could do to stop from drifting off again, not with Tony whispering in his ear.

 

 

Steve woke to the sound of his alarm and found that Tony was gone. He felt around the bed for warmth but it had long since departed, chasing off after the Incubus. Steve sighed, staring blandly at the pillow Tony had been using. He flicked a piece of lint off it. Well that had been just magical. Now Tony knew exactly how much of an idiot he was – how pathetically broken he had become. He was tempted to curl up in bed and pull the covers over his head instead of getting up. It would be a lot better than going to work, that was for sure; even if the other Avengers wouldn’t say anything, they all knew about the ice and the night terrors. He had felt obligated to tell SHIELD, afraid that it might cause problems in the field if he didn’t; they had said that it was normal to be afraid, that he wasn’t the first soldier that had nightmares. He didn’t believe them.

He felt stupid for telling them. The week they had spent curled in the woods together while they waited for Hydra to show their faces had been uncomfortable to say the least; Bucky had slept pressed up against his back, shaking him every time he started whimpering in his sleep. It hadn’t been enough to keep the memories at bay. If Bucky hadn’t been there, someone from Hydra would have heard him screaming in the night. He had been so grateful for his friend, and at the same time he had wished that they had just left him behind in the ice. The others had looked at him differently the next morning, like he had suddenly grown a third arm. Bucky had told him that he was being ridiculous, that they saw him as the same old Steve as always, but he had known that he wasn’t the same to them anymore. He had felt it in his bones.

Steve rolled over and winced when he nearly poked his eye out on a piece of folded paper that had been left on his pillow. He gingerly unfolded the paper with trembling fingers, cursing himself for being so damned so pathetic.

He smiled, the despair chased away as if by magic. The handwriting was unmistakeably Tony’s, all precise and neat, everything mathematically arranged on the page to maximize the amount of space.

 _Went to go study – Be back later for dinner. Have a nice time at work and don’t let_ _that asshole eat the rest of my cake for breakfast – Tony._

_P.S. you still owe me for falling asleep on me last night. I expect to be taken to bed._

Steve folded the note back up. He held the little square in his hands, the greasy fingerprints on the paper charmingly quaint. Maybe this _was_ something he wanted and not just him following Fury’s orders. He had wanted someone for a long time – maybe this was it for him. Maybe Tony was the one. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to mourn anymore.

 

“Steve? You up?” Bucky said, banging on Steve’s door. He sounded just as tired as Steve felt. He opened the door without waiting for Steve to answer, peering in. “Steve?”

“I’m up,” Steve croaked, finally dragging himself out of bed. He cast a glance back at the warm blankets and then looked at the note in his hand. “What do you say about going out for breakfast?”

“I don’t know man. There’s leftover cake out there that’s calling my name,” Bucky said with a tired, lopsided grin.

Steve pulled open his dresser to grab a clean set of clothing and froze, his face feeling impossibly warmer; Tony’s clothing was folded up, nestled in with his own. He smirked when he saw that Tony had commandeered the Captain America shirt, sneaking it in with his things. Maybe Tony was here to stay after all.

“Let’s go get pancakes,” he said, pulling on work clothes as Bucky hummed and hawed in the doorway. “We can get the banana ones you like so much.”

“Alright,” Bucky said. He stomped back down the hallway to his own bedroom. “But we’re getting the chocolate ones too!” he called out.

“Sounds good to me!” Steve said. He slipped the square of paper into his pocket.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony starts to get the hang of his new life, only he doesn't seem to understand that he might just be rushing things a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was so late! I got a new computer on friday, so I had to spent a bunch of time setting it up/downloading all my old files and new programs. Hopefully this nice long chapter will make up for it (although I'm pretty sure someone's going to want to throw a book at my head for what's in here lololol)

HQ was a nightmare in the mornings. Agents were always rushing in and out in waves, hampered by morning traffic and by the fact that it was in fact _actually_ morning; most of them worked on a twenty four hour basis and didn’t get a lot of time off to enjoy their mornings anyway, but Steve still felt sorry for them all the same. They puttered around in the underground levels of SHIELD’s HQ at all hours of the day and sometimes when they emerged all bleary-eyed and exhausted, they would stare up at the windows in awe as if not having realized that the world did in fact go on while they slaved away.

Steve was glad that he didn’t have to work that way too frequently. While the Avengers were an integral part of SHIELD, they weren’t exactly needed on base to deliver paperwork or serve coffee and doughnuts; they were there to provide the muscle and tactical strength, and that was pretty much it. Most of them, aside from Natasha and Clint spent their time working on other projects not part of SHIELD when Avenging hit a lull; Bruce used his time to mess around in his lab within SHIELD, and Thor spent a lot of his time traveling back and forth between Asgard and New York while dealing with family business.

Everyone had places to be and while Steve didn’t mind, he couldn’t help thinking that it would be better if they all worked out of the same building for more than a few days a month.

 

Steve and Bucky made their way to Coulson’s office, hoping that the security issues they had been tormented with for the past two days had been dealt with; Hydra was likely still licking their collective wounds from their last battle, so things would be quiet if they were lucky. All the data they had stolen back would have gone through SHIELD’s processing system by now, so someone had to know _something_ about the mysterious hacker who had provided them with the classified files.

Coulson welcomed them with his normal calm smile and then ushered them out of his office before they could sit down, insisting that they go off base to get coffee and cookies; that was when Steve knew something was up. Coulson _hated_ cookies – not because they were bad, but because as a diabetic, they were the bane of his very existence. He usually stared at the doughnuts the interns carried in each morning, mournfully watching them pass by; Steve had caught him forlornly licking his glaze-slick fingers after passing one to Clint, and it had been the single most depressing thing he had ever seen.

“So,” Coulson said, sipping his piping hot coffee sans sugar. They had settled on a small coffee shop called Nelson’s Joe, located thirty minutes away from HQ; Steve had been here a few times before, but never with Coulson.

Being in Nelson’s Joe was little like taking sanctuary from the Spanish Inquisition; nothing got out unless it wanted out. The owner, a man named Brandon, was a mutant who had the ability to put up mental blocks, and he could short out anything electronic with a mere blink if he was so inclined. He _hated_ spies with a passion, and disliked the way the military seemed to be involved in every little facet of present day life. For some reason he didn’t mind the Avengers stopping by every once in a while; Coulson was pretty much the only agent from SHIELD allowed through the door, and he always tipped generously because of it. SHIELD knew all about Brandon’s special abilities; it would have been strange if they hadn’t. They had never gone after him for his skills, simply keeping watch whenever they thought something suspicious was going on inside. Fury sometimes had the interns bring trays of mocha in when he was feeling generous, and although the interns were allowed to come in and buy drinks, they never really seemed to remember looking around.

“I have some information about the hack that happened earlier,” Coulson said, clearing his throat. He held the cup cradled between his hands as if it was a pot of gold instead of a plain old Americano. He thumbed at the cup handle, giving his coffee a little swirl.

He shot Bucky a dark look when he noticed him attempting to put his feet up on the coffee table. “If you keep your feet up there Mr. Barnes, I promise you that you will be finding Taser burns on your thighs for the rest of the month.”

Bucky let his feet drop to the floor, chuckling nervously. “Keep your pants on. God knows I’ve seen more than enough of _that_ the past few weeks. I swear, I’m going to have to beg them for another mind wipe.”

Coulson didn’t even bat an eyelash at that. “As you have been informed, SHIELD has tracked down the hacker and essentially the information that was stolen in the process. You might want to have a talk with Howard Stark about it.”

“Howard? What does Howard have to do with anything?” Steve asked with a frown. “Can’t he just get the information directly from you if he needs it?”

“Oh, he could, but I think he was a little _embarrassed_ about what that would mean for him. After all, what he was looking for was pretty much an admission of guilt on his part,” Coulson said.

“I don’t believe that. Howard doesn’t have any shame,” Bucky said with a snort.

“But the files – _oh_.” Steve’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Completely,” Coulson said. “I think on some level Howard always suspected the truth, but he never bothered to mention anything to anyone after his impromptu visit to the Succubus home world. He was gone for little more than a day their time – similar to how you ended up Captain and it wasn’t exactly as if they sent him any postcards once he was gone. Howard’s not a young man anymore after all. I’m not surprised he started looking for his son now after all these years.”

“Tony. You’re talking about Tony,” Bucky grunted. “Tony the _Incubus_ – the naked guy who’s been living in our house and sleeping in Steve’s bed – he’s a secret Stark?”

“Yes he is. Why did you think Fury sent you off looking for him? Howard isn’t exactly on the best of terms with SHIELD at the moment – but you didn’t hear that from me,” Coulson said. He set his cup down, sighing. “Frankly, it’s not exactly like this came out of the blue. The way Howard lives his life, it was only a matter of time before _someone_ turned up. The problem isn’t that he has a son. The problem is that his son is one of the brightest men on the planet – and he’s not even human.”

“Howard’s probably shitting bricks right now,” Bucky chuckled, biting into a piece of biscotti.

“Exactly. He became even more _distraught_ when he figured out that his son might end up under SHIELD’s umbrella and therefore, under contract. He’s been subtly trying to ask around to figure out where Tony’s been living ever half since he found out that Tony is in our world, but he hasn’t been able to get a definite answer.” Coulson smiled. “Thus the need for secrecy. He’s been spying through cameras he really should have left alone.”

“Does Fury know about all this?” Steve asked.

“He knows. He was pretty clear that he didn’t want anyone _else_ to know about it until he had made sure Tony was secure and working for SHIELD. They’ve offered Tony a position at HQ; a lab and everything all at his disposal assuming of course that he keeps the files and information on their servers at all times. They’re worried about things getting into the wrong hands. Tony’s smart, but he doesn’t have any legal experience, so he’s signed stuff away already without realizing it.” Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s irritating as hell when he’s around, but when he works, he _really_ works. He’s already spent at least three or four hours in the lab assembling something that looks a lot like a mechanical hand. I’m assuming of course that he’s building something for Barnes.”

“I highly doubt that,” Bucky snorted. “The guy hates my guts.”

“But he likes Steve’s,” Coulson pointed out, “and at this point I think he’d do anything Steve asked him.”

“It’s not like that – we’re just friends!” Steve protested.

“I’m not saying anything different, Captain Rogers. What I’m saying is that if something important gets invented in his lab you might be needed to be around to keep Tony Stark from making a decision that might negatively affect his life on Earth. Fury doesn’t exactly have a heart of gold, but he’s not the Council. If they find out Tony’s on the payroll and they want him to build some kind of weapon… well, you get what I’m saying.” Coulson pulled a card out of his pocket and scribbled a phone number on it. “If things come down to it, you might have to go to Howard in order to keep Tony from becoming a pawn, and while I know how much fun dealing with him can be, it might be for the best.”

“But weren’t we trying to keep Howard from getting Tony’s location?” Steve sighed. “I know he’s Tony’s father and all, but it isn’t exactly as if the guy’s been in his life before now. He might be just as bad as the Council.”

Steve had seen his fair share of bureaucracy in action before, but it had never been quite so convoluted; corporations had a lot more pull these days it seemed, more than he had thought was possible in a democratic society and Howard Stark owned one of the biggest of them all.

Steve felt dizzy, as if all the blood had drained out of his body. Could Howard really force Tony into something against his will? He supposed that the question wasn’t really whether Howard _could_ do something; it was more of a _when_. Howard was notorious for his cruel business practices worldwide. He may have been rich, but he wasn’t against ruining someone’s business by simply leaving the area and costing people jobs. Very little kindness entered into the equation when it came to him getting what he wanted.

Tony wasn’t the only one under SHIELD contract either. Once you got down to it, Steve’s body was nothing more than living hunk of military property waiting to be pillaged for spare parts. The idea that SHIELD might try something like that on Tony left a bitter taste in Steve’s mouth; he wanted to set up escape routes for the both of them as soon as possible.

Steve shook his head.

No, they couldn’t just up and leave; the Council would take someone in his place, and he couldn’t let that happen. He had been a test subject before, and while he had hated every minute of it he would go back in a heartbeat to protect Tony or any of his other friends from being used in his place. He had hated the Council before, but knowing that they might want to buy the rights to Tony’s life made him even angrier. On second thought, leaving the continent wasn’t far enough. It would be better to leave the _planet_.

Coulson put a hand on Steve’s shoulder as he stood up, slipping the card into the front pocket of Steve’s shirt. “That’s my private number – the one that’s not bugged.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, scowling into his coffee.

“I know its hard decision, but think about it this way. If Tony Stark wants to sign some of his inventions over to SHIELD, I’m sure they’d appreciate it – but if Howard Stark acts as a mediator, they might be less inclined to try and trick him into giving things away for free. I’m not saying that either option is better, because frankly going to Howard is just as risky as giving in to SHIELD’s demands, but if you _don’t_ go to Howard sometime soon there might be problems in the long run. Howard likes you Steve. He might not screw around with the paperwork or contracts if he knows that you’re going to be looking over his shoulder the entire time,” Coulson said.

“And Tony?” Steve asked, shaking his head in disbelief, “Does he even have a say in this?”

“He has a say, although I would be lying if I said it was worth anything to either of them. He can either have access to expensive equipment and costly materials through Stark or through SHIELD. No one else is going to touch him with a forty foot pole, I can _guarantee_ it,” Coulson said with a grimace.

“You’re kidding,” Steve grunted.

“Sadly, I am not,” Coulson sighed. He picked up a piece of biscotti, staring at it sorrowfully before putting it back down on its plate. “Both Stark and SHIELD have been sending out memos and injunctions to every organization with the money even remotely interested in what Tony’s been making. Every organization I’ve contacted is pretty much cowering in fear at the mere _thought_ of the army of lawyers that would be sicced on them if they took Tony in and helped him realize his dreams. Even the universities won’t touch him, and they usually just take whoever forks over the cash for tuition.” Coulson gave Brandon a nod as he fixed his tie, heading towards the door. “Take my advice Captain. Talk to Howard before you make a decision and make sure you explain everything to Tony. He doesn’t have the same understanding of the world that we do, but he’ll figure it out.”

“And Fury? What’s he going to say about all this? He’s the one who told me to try and win Tony over at all costs,” Steve said. “What’s he getting out of this?”

“He’s the one telling you about this – _unofficially_. The Council’s busy watching him and he thought it was best if he used an outside mediator to explain. Besides,” Coulson said, smiling softly to Steve, “he knows that you won’t let someone bully Tony into a decision. I don’t think he could have picked anyone better, even if Tony had chased after someone else. We trust you Captain; Tony trusts you. You know what to do.” Coulson gave Steve a salute and then pushed the door open, slipping out into traffic.

 

Bucky swiped Steve’s biscotti. He bit through the chocolate dipped end first, savoring the way the cookie tasted with a look on his face that was probably better suited to a bedroom somewhere. “Well at least we don’t have to go back to HQ.”

“True, although I wish someone had said something about this earlier,” Steve sighed. “It would have been nice to get a heads up before Tony sold his damned soul into servitude.”

“It could be worse.”

“We’re going to have to go talk with Howard Stark about business and his family. What’s worse than that?” Steve stacked their plates up, carrying them to the till with Bucky hot on his heels, Coulson’s abandoned biscotti in hand.

“Well,” Bucky said as he pushed his way out the door, “you could have been assigned as Howard’s personal bodyguard. You’ve heard the stories Nat tells about him.” He smirked when he saw how Steve’s face had paled. “Oh yeah. Things could be _so_ much worse.”

 

 

“I really don’t know what to tell you Steve,” Howard said, leafing through a pile of papers that Steve was fairly certain were just there acting as props, “I don’t _have_ a son. Never have, never will. Obviously you’ve been fed false information.”

Bucky nudged Steve in the shoulder, smirking. “What’d I tell you?”

“I guess I owe you a fiver,” Steve said with a smile, standing up. “Alright then, I guess we’ll be going. Obviously you have no interest in your son, and we’re apparently a bunch of lying bums.”

“I didn’t say that,” Howard grumbled, letting the papers drop into a neat pile. “I just said that I don’t have a son.”

“So you _didn’t_ have SHIELD hacked to find him?” Steve asked, leaning his hip against the desk.

Howard’s left eye twitched. “I didn’t hack anything,” he said with a growl. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“I didn’t say you hacked them yourself. I’m saying _someone_ hacked the database, and if that someone is an enemy of SHIELD then Tony would theoretically be in a great deal of danger,” Steve said, carefully watching Howard’s face. It had been a long time since he had seen Howard rattled like this; the man looked ready to dive under his table, his eyes darting from Steve to Bucky every other second. Coulson had obviously been on to something.

Howard was one of the most shameless individuals Steve had ever met; there was little he wouldn’t take credit for, especially if it was something he had thought up, hinted at it or generally built. He loved his company more than he did his life; some would say more than the world. Most CEO’s would have handed the reigns off to someone younger once they got to Howard’s age. Instead, Howard had clung to Stark International for dear life. He hadn’t even let his business partner, Obadiah Stane, take over any of his responsibilities; rumor had it that the pair of them fought like cats and dogs, but so far no one had the pictures to prove it.

Steve wondered just what was rattling Howard’s chains. Was someone watching him? Or was he just a little twitchy because SHIELD had known about his son before he did?

He leaned harder against the desk, his hand dropping down to bump against the stack of papers, carelessly dislodging the first page. “I’m sure you know how irritating that kind of thing is to SHIELD,” he said, reading the top page upside down. He tried not to laugh; it was hard not to considering Howard was busy fondling a how-to guide for making wind socks. While he could see Howard telling someone to go fly a kite, he couldn’t exactly see Howard doing it himself.

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Howard said haughtily, sneering up at Steve. He pushed the top page back onto the stack. “Now, if you haven’t got anything else to say, I’m late for dinner with a gorgeous blonde that might make my week.” He got up, shoved his chair away and stormed from the room with his coattails flapping about behind him.

He stalked back in fifteen seconds later looking absolutely livid, closing the door softly behind him. “Alright. Where is he?”

“Where is who?” Steve asked innocently.

“Where’s Tony – my _son_!” Howard snapped. “Don’t play stupid – you know damn well who I’m talking about!”

“But you said you don’t _have_ a son,” Bucky said, smiling sweetly. “Are you going _senile_ old man?”

Howard darted forwards, grabbing Bucky by the front of his shirt, a murderous glint in his eyes. “Don’t fuck with me Barnes. I’ve had enough of your shit.”

“I think you need to back off Howie,” Bucky growled in Howard’s face. “Or I’m going to have to break your goddamned face. See, unlike Steve, I don’t have any reason to be nice to you and I don’t have any qualms about doing damage to your ugly mug.”

“You’re a real piece of work, Barnes,” Howard spat, his face turning an unpleasant shade of purple. “How’s about I teach you some manners _boy_?”

“I don’t usually hit old men, but for you I’ll make an exception,” Bucky said, raising a fist.

“That’s enough.” Steve sat down in a chair, gesturing for Howard to take a seat of his own. “We’re all adults here. Let’s handle this the right way.”

Bucky smirked, dropping into his own seat with a pleased sigh.

Howard’s lips twisted into a wicked snarl. “You know Rogers, I thought you were better than this. You’ve really sunk low here.” He stalked around the table and gingerly lowered himself into his chair, wheeling it forwards until he was flush with his desk.

“I beg your pardon?” Steve growled. “How _exactly_ have I sunk low?”

“You’re here to ring a settlement out of me on SHIELD’s behalf, aren’t you? They’ve been dangling my son in my face ever since you brought him through that goddamned portal. We _all_ know why Tony’s here – why you brought him with you,” Howard snapped. “Don’t waste your breath lying to me.”

“I didn’t bring him back here – he followed me!” Steve roared, slamming his hands down on the table. “I didn’t even know he was your son until this morning!”

Howard stared at Steve like he had just told him to go eat paste. “You… you didn’t know?”

“Of course I didn’t know! Did you think that I’d keep my friend away from his own father if I knew who the guy was?” Steve stood up, furious. Howard always had been great at making him angry, but he hadn’t expected to lose his cool so damned fast. He resisted the urge to simply bury his fist in Howard’s face, and reined his rage in, storing it away for later.

“You work for _SHIELD_ , Rogers – what did you expect me to think when no one would tell me what was going on! They call me in, badger me with a thousand stupid questions and then bam – my _son_ appears out of nowhere? You have to admit that it’s a _little_ suspicious. And it’s not like they haven’t tried to force my hand before!” Howard grumbled. “Those bastards have been trying to get my patents for years now, every single goddamned one of them!”

“Well this isn’t about that. This about Tony, and his best interest,” Steve said calmly. “He’s a good guy Howard, and he doesn’t deserve to be jerked around.”

“Who said I was planning on jerking him around? I’m prepared to offer him a special place in my will, provided that he follows a set of rules.” Howard sneered at Steve, giving Bucky a cursory glance when Steve didn’t so much as blink in response. “He’ll have his every whim taken care of provided that he signs the agreement.”

“And do you have a copy that he can read over? Or are you going to just spring it on him?” Steve asked.

“Oh, are you his _keeper_ Rogers?” Howard chortled. “I’m sure you’ve got his _best_ interest at heart. You just want his _ass_ to play with –”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Bucky said. “Steve’s not that kind of person. What’s your beef, huh? You think tricking him into smashing you one is going to help you somehow? You going to sneak in, put a restraining order on him to keep him away from your son?” Bucky smirked at the way Howard’s face went bright red again. “Oh, I’m right, aren’t I? That’s what you were thinking of doing. You were going to press charges against _Steve Rogers_ for what – _indecency_? Hostage taking? What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?” He lunged at Howard, eyes flashing in rage and if Steve hadn’t grabbed him by the shoulders, he might have succeeded in kicking Howard in the face; instead he hung in Steve’s grasp, tense and ready to attack.

Howard, for his part, didn’t look even mildly frightened although he did push his chair back a bit. He rested his chin on his hand, sighing at them both, ever the drama queen. “Look, I get it. You’re both macho men and you do macho things. It’s unquestionably in your blood to do archaic things like locking my son up for his own good. All I’m asking is to have a conversation with him, _alone_ without you two _leeches_ hanging off of him. He can make his own decisions; he’s a big boy. I’m sure he’s smart enough to do that much without you holding his hand.”

“And you think we’ll agree to that? You’ll force the stupid bastard to sign a contract that’ll have him wearing a barrel when you’re done with him!” Bucky spat. He wriggled out of Steve’s grasp, jabbing a finger in Howard’s face. “You need to grow up Stark. You’re not the King of Manhattan and you’re sure as hell not an Avenger. I don’t know what lies you tell yourself so that you can sleep at night, but you’re no good for anyone. I’m sure SHIELD would be more willing to put a bullet in your head than deal with you through Steve – and without Tony you’re looking at your company going to Stane. You’d better think fast, Howie.”

“That’s very true. So let me talk to my son – alone. All I ask is that you give him the chance to look at things my way. I’ll tell you what,” Howard said, smiling thinly as he swatted Bucky’s hand away from him, “you can have the entire day after for him to think about it. He can do whatever he likes after that. All you need to do is get him to me and your job’s done. If you really trust him and care about him like you’ve said, you’ll give him the opportunity to have the best life possible. He can be a _god_ if he plays his cards right.”

“Alright,” Steve said. “If it’s up to him, then I’m more than happy to let you two talk it out. But the final decision _will_ be up to him. If I find out you’re trying to brow beat him into anything I’m coming back here and we’re going to have a very unpleasant conversation, Howard.”

“OH? Are we now?” Howard cackled. “You think you can threaten me in my own building?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve smiled coldly. “Besides, it’s hardly as if I’m in your building _all_ the time. I like to take walks all around New York. It’s a beautiful city and I’ve been meaning to catch up on all the new sights.”

Howard paled slightly. “You’re bluffing.”

“I don’t take bullying lightly. You may have been a good man back during the war, but good men don’t screw over their own children and friends for their own benefit. Think about that,” Steve said. He led Bucky to the door, leaving Howard sputtering behind him.

 

They got into the elevator; neither of them spoke. Bucky continued to fume, glaring at the security cameras every time the elevator lights changed to a new floor. He flipped the nearest camera off as they got out, his eyes narrowed into slits. The moment they hit the street, Bucky started grinning again, his sullen stomp turning into a cheerful swagger. “Man, I forgot how much fun it is to fuck with Howard like that.” He elbowed Steve, leading them towards the park. “You owe me lunch.”

“I know, I know. At least we know what he’s going to do now. I didn’t expect him to get so tetchy about us being there on Tony’s behalf. It’s not like anyone in the Avengers has gone after him before – at least not that I know of. He’s usually on good terms with everyone – well,” Steve chuckled, “aside from Natasha, of course.”

“Well, what do you expect? He’s probably freaking out right now. I wouldn’t be surprised if he went running to his lawyers trying to draft something up the minute we stepped into that elevator. I don’t think he thought we would get here so fast.” Bucky shrugged. “Whatever happens, Tasha will let us know. She’s had his place bugged for ages.”

“Good,” Steve said grimly. “You know, I wonder what it would have been like if Howard had been around to actually raise a kid.”

“God, I don’t even want to know,” Bucky grumbled, shoving Steve towards a park bench. “The kid would probably be an alcoholic douchebag or something. Can you imagine him raising _anything_? He’d probably kill a house plant if he didn’t have his butler around to water it for him.”

“I don’t know if he’s _that_ bad,” Steve chuckled. “The kid might have turned out just fine.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, searching through his contacts for Tony’s name. Tony would probably appreciate a good lunch too, considering his poor eating habits.

“Yeah, his kid would be fine if it was a _cactus_ ,” Bucky laughed. “Honestly, that guy would have been put up for worst father of the year every year running.”

 

 

Tony ate in silence, listening to everything Steve said with narrowed eyes. He stole a few of Bucky’s fries once Steve was finished explaining everything about Howard Stark and his company, wiping his greasy, salt covered fingers on a napkin. Steve had been tempted to leave the more sordid details out but hadn’t had the heart to whitewash Howard’s reputation; the lie would have been far too much in Howard’s favor, and Tony had the right to know all about his father, even if some of it was a little awful. He even told Tony about SHIELD’s orders, and how he had been expected to win Tony over to keep him out of Howard’s grasp; it hadn’t seemed right to keep him in the dark about that.

“So let me get this straight. SHIELD and dear old dad are fighting over me? Is that it?” Tony asked, calmly fishing another napkin out of the holder. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and began to scribble math equations on the napkin, seemingly uninterested in the conversation now that he was finished eating.

“They both feel they have your best interests at heart. I’m not going to tell you which option to go with – that’s up to you to decide, but they’re both going to give you contracts to look over and you had better be ready for them. I’ll give you his contact information,” Steve said, searching for Howard’s number on his phone.

Tony waved him off. “Don’t bother,” he said, dipping another stolen fry in the last of the ketchup on Bucky’s plate. “I synced our phones ages ago. Didn’t know who he was of course, but it seemed like an important contact considering his Avenger tag.”

Steve grimaced internally. At least Tony was learning, even if it was a tad on the invasive side. “Well then, I guess the ball’s in your court.”

“I suppose,” Tony said idly. “Look,” he glanced down at his phone which had been lying on the table throughout lunch, suddenly standing up. “I’ve got things to finish up. It was nice seeing you and all, but if I don’t get out of here sometime in the next ten seconds I’m going to be late for a very important class.” He slid his way out of the booth and gave Steve a peck on the cheek, scooping up his phone. “Ciao sweetheart.” With that said he was gone, vanishing into thin air, sticking Steve with the bill.

 

“I don’t think he understood what you were talking about,” Bucky said, staring mournfully at his now empty plate. “Fucker ate all my fries.”

Steve waved the waitress over again and ordered up two fresh plates of fries and burgers, taking pity on Bucky’s half empty stomach; it wasn’t as if they had anywhere else to go today, and they deserved some decent comfort food considering the pains they had had to go through. “You know what they say, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Bucky grumbled, casting a glance over his shoulder out the window. “I’m more worried he’s going to sell _your_ soul somehow.”

Steve flicked Bucky in the shoulder. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“He doesn’t even understand half of what you say,” Bucky countered, flicking Steve back. “Besides, he’s not exactly human you know. In his world they probably sell people off and use them as – what did he call them? Farmers?”

“He was talking about agriculture,” Steve snorted, rolling his eyes.

“His world’s society is a whole big bag of bullshit. Hell, we don’t even know what things are like there aside from the fact that they have a Queen and she apparently doesn’t like people mouthing off. What do the other members of her court actually do? What happens to their families – and what does that whole Earth-born thing mean anyway? For all we know they grab humans and use them as mulch for their _farming_.” Bucky snorted.

“I don’t know what to tell you. Unless you want to go back there and find out for yourself we’re just going to have to let it go.”

“And you’re alright with never knowing? If you’re alright with that then I’m the Queen of Sheba.”

“Well then, your majesty,” Steve said, shifting back so that the waitress could set their plates down without twisting awkwardly, “you’re the Queen of Sheba. If we need to know we can ask Tony. I trust him. He’ll tell us the truth.”

“He’ll tell you what he thinks you need to know,” Bucky grumbled.

“He’s not going to lie to me.”

“You just think that because he’s the first person to jump willingly into your bed in what, three years? Four? Come on now Steve, you’re being overly optimistic. He’s not some pretty airheaded dame you can boss around.” Bucky bit into his burger, chewing fondly. “He’s an Incubus – a creature of lies.”

“Dreams,” Steve corrected.

“What?”

“He’s a creature of dreams.”

“Whatever – the point is, you’d better be prepared for when shit hits the fan. If Tony doesn’t cause a problem, then Howard or SHIELD will and that’s going to be a fucking _nightmare_.”

“Language.”

“Oh, bite me.”

 

 

When elven p.m. rolled around, Steve crawled into bed alone feeling tired enough to sleep for a month; he forced himself to stay up, wanting to see how things had gone with Tony’s class. He closed his novel at midnight, setting the battered copy of The Three Musketeers down on his nightstand, and flicked off his lamp.

Every call he had made to Tony’s phone since dinner had been unanswered, each text ignored. Steve had hoped that Tony would have known enough to send him a message back saying he would be late considering how technologically efficient he had become, but apparently that had been hoping for too much.

He closed his eyes and then jumped up when he heard someone ringing the doorbell like a madman. Concerned, he slipped out of his room and made his way to the front door, peering through the peek hole. There was a man standing outside in the hallway dressed in dark sunglasses and a rather dapper looking suit; his beard seemed familiar, but other than that he didn’t look like anyone Steve knew.

Steve reluctantly opened the door, acutely aware that Bucky was standing to the left of him with his gun drawn.

“I know, I know,” Tony said, pushing past Steve. He yanked the sunglasses off of his nose and tucked them into his breast pocket. “I ran out of magic so I had to take a shorter ride home – that guy who sleeps outside on the bench across the street nearly had a heart attack when I used him to jump through, but whatever. I gave him all the change in my pocket so I’m think we’re good.”

“What the hell are you wearing?” Bucky growled, lowering his gun. “You look like you’re from some old gangster movie. Where the hell did you get the fancy threads?”

“They was part of my deal with Howard. I don’t see how it’s such a big deal. The class I went to said that a businessman needs to look like this to be taken seriously – and I’m not going to go out there dressed like an _idiot_. It’s bad enough you two let me run around naked in here,” Tony grumbled, casting a glance around the apartment, sniffing in disdain. “Oh, and Howard sends his regards.”

 

“You went to see him already?” Steve asked, startled by Tony’s admission. He hadn’t expected Tony to even bother with Howard that night, considering how uninterested he had seemed at lunch.

“Of course I did. I went as soon as my last class was over. What did you think took me so long? I figured it was better to get the drop on him before he could try and get a fancy contract drawn up. I may not be human, but I’m very aware of how titles and deeds work. We have all of that stuff in my world too, and it’s not as if I needed to do any real work to figure out what your lawyer-speak meant. It was easy as pie. All I had to do was pick up a book.” Tony shrugged his expensive jacket off, letting it drape over the back of a dining room chair. He popped his gold cuff links off, stuffing them into the jacket pocket and then grabbed Steve by the arm, leading him towards the bedroom. “I’m tired. We can talk about this tomorrow after sex.”

“You didn’t answer my calls,” Steve protested, standing firm. “You’re supposed to be _reachable_ Tony. I thought we agreed on that. Someone could have kidnapped you or carted you off and no one would have known.”

Tony let out a loud sigh, scowling at Steve. “Look Rogers, I was _busy_. I’m not going to be able to drop everything to call you every _hour_ of the day you know. You may be Captain America, but I’m not some slave you can drag around by the hair. I have things to do – important things.”

“That’s not – _Fine_ ,” Steve snapped. He marched stiffly into his bedroom, grabbing the pile of clothing he had only recently discarded, sleepiness abruptly gone; there was no plan in his mind, nothing but Tony’s unpleasant words bouncing around in his head.

Tony gaped at him. “What are you doing?”

“Going out,” Steve growled, tugging on his jeans.

“But _why_? You’re supposed to be fucking me!”

“You’re not my slave, so why would I do that? I’ve got _important_ things to do Tony – why should I be around at _your_ beck and call?” Steve yanked his jacket on, storming to the door. It was bad enough being called a pervert by Howard, but this was too much. If this was what Tony thought of him – that he was some kind of Neanderthal who dragged people around by the hair – then he didn’t want to even be in the same room with him. He laced up his boots, aware that Tony hadn’t even bothered to follow him.

 

 

It took him two hours to drive the rage away; he drove his bike out of the city, pulling into the parking lot of an all-night diner; the place was a hole in the wall, but he had never been concerned by that kind of thing before. He found a space at the counter and sat there fuming as he shoveled pie into his mouth and drank his own weight in bad coffee. He felt like shit. He kept replaying the fight over and over again in his head, hating his responses more every time he remembered them. He didn’t know why he had snapped at Tony; all he knew was that he had felt frustrated and helpless by the way Tony had treated him. It had been as if they weren’t equals, like Steve was some kind of peasant expecting something from a lord. He had never felt stupid around other people before, not even when he had paid visits to the Baxter Building to coordinate with the Fantastic Four; Mr. Fantastic could be a hell of an ass when he was talking to people, but his lectures never carried the same sting as Tony’s.

He felt his jacket vibrate and was surprised to find his phone nestled there in his pocket amidst a handful of squashed Kleenex. He checked the logs, scowling progressively harder as he scrolled through the list of missed calls. Tony had called seven times, each call ten minutes apart. He let the call go to voice mail, too angry to pick up.

What was Tony going to say?

He was sorry?

Well sorry didn’t take back the awful twist in his gut and it certainly didn’t make Steve feel any less angry. He put his phone down on the counter, glowering into his milky coffee.

The phone rang again; it was Bucky this time. With a sigh, Steve answered, pressing the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”

“He’s freaking out,” Bucky said. His voice was higher pitched than normal, almost shrill by comparison. “He didn’t mean it.”

“He meant it,” Steve said bitterly, stabbing at the remains of his hunk of apple pie. This was his fifth slice, and soon he would order another one to replace it. The gnawing hunger in his belly was too deep to ignore. “He’s not parroting Howard. He meant what he said.”

“I think he thought he was making a joke,” Bucky murmured.

“What? How was that even supposed to be _remotely_ funny?”

“He’s an Incubus Steve. They’re _stupid_. They do all their thinking with their dicks. What did you expect?” Bucky said. “It’s not his fault he doesn’t have any brain cells left for social etiquette. He’s too busy thinking about the new crap he’s going to design and about when he’s going to get laid next.”

Steve heard Tony yell out a ‘hey!’ in protest and smiled despite himself. “I don’t know,” he sighed, finishing off the pie. He wave the waitress over; she seemed surprised that he would want more, but brought him a chunk of chocolate pie anyway. She shook her head at the fry cook who was busy giving Steve the stink eye through the service window.

“You’re comfort eating again, aren’t you,” Bucky sighed.

“I am not,” Steve mumbled through a mouthful of pie.

“You’re a horrible liar. We all know it. What are you eating?”

“Pie,” Steve said gloomily, taking another bite of chocolaty goodness.

“I know you’re mad, but you shouldn’t be trying to eat your weight in pie, Steve. It’s not healthy.”

“What do I care? It’s not like I can gain weight,” Steve grunted.

“Alright, where are you?” Bucky said.

“Why do you want to know?” Steve asked. He pushed the plate away, disgusted with himself. His mother would have given him a smack upside the head if she could see him now, stuffing himself with food.

“I want to come out there and get your sorry ass. Baby Stark is busy burning a hole in the carpet with his pacing and it’s driving me nuts.”

“And why should I care about that? _He_ doesn’t care – all he wants me for is my – you-know-what.” Steve took a long swallow of coffee to cover his discomfort, handing over another five dollars to cover the pie and the refill. “Fury was right.”

“Hey, no, don’t think about it like that,” Bucky said softly.

“But that’s what it is. That’s all it ever was. He saw me half naked in his world and he wanted to jump my bones. That’s all I’ve ever meant to him.”

“Well I can’t claim to say that I understand what goes on in his crazy-ass mind, but I don’t think he just wants to use you and lose you,” Bucky murmured. “He seems to feel genuinely bad about what he said, so can’t you just call it even for tonight? Come home and talk about it with him in the morning when he’s not half-dead from exhaustion and you’re not angry.”

“I don’t know if I want to do that.”

“Steve,”

“I _know_ Bucky,” Steve snorted. “I know, but I don’t want to come back right now. I feel like such an _ass_.”

“Hey –”

Bucky’s voice vanished, his shouts becoming muffled as someone grabbed the phone away from him.

“Steve?” Tony’s voice sounded tinny, like he was talking through a funnel.

Steve put his head in his hands. Great – just peachy. He let out a shaky breath, ready to speak, but couldn’t think of anything to say. He took the phone away from his ear intending to hang up.

Tony’s voice rang out from the receiver loud and clear, stopping him. “Steve? You’re there, right? Come on, say something.” Tony sighed when Steve didn’t speak. “Look – I didn’t mean to be a jerk, I just thought… I thought… I don’t know. I should have phoned. I told you I would phone and I didn’t. I’m sor– I’m not used to having people around. I’ve never had to call anyone before. I’ve… I’ve never had anyone to _call_. You know what, never mind. This is stupid.” There was a thud, the sound of the phone hitting the ground and then Bucky’s angry voice again, yelling at Tony – saying something indecipherable.

“Hello?” Steve said, swallowing hard. “Tony?”

The phone creaked, static taking over before finally, blessedly returning to normal.

“Hey, Steve you still with me?” Bucky asked.

“Yes, I’m still here,” Steve said, relieved to hear Bucky’s voice. He hung his head when he noticed that the waitress was looking at him; people always stared at him when he was out but this felt more like she knew what was going on, like she had been privy to the conversation somehow even though he hadn’t said all that much on his end. Maybe she was psychic; that or she had seen enough people in his position before. She had certainly seen him sulking every time she had supplied him with pie and coffee.

“He’s run off,” Bucky grumbled, “irritating little _bastard_.”

“He’s _what_?” Steve’s blood ran cold. “He’s run – where did he go?” He stood up so fast he nearly knocked his plate clean off the counter; he smiled sheepishly at the waitress as he steadied the wobbling plate. She gave him a sour look, one that Steve had only ever associated with displeased Generals.

“Sorry ma’am,” he said.

“Damn right you’re sorry,” she grumbled, stalking off to the coffee machine to go start a new pot.

“Where is he? Did he leave the house?” Steve asked, sitting back down and pushing the plate away.

“No, no. Shit, Steve, calm down – it’s fine. He’s just making himself at home in your room. I’m looking at him right now – it’s _fine_ ,” Bucky said.

Steve pulled the phone away at the sound of a door slamming. He put the phone back to his ear and then yanked it away again, wincing, when heavy metal screeched out of the speakers.

“He’s fine,” Bucky shouted, barely audible over the music. “Steve, you still there?” Something creaked over the phone; the music faded into the sound of squealing tires and honking horns. “So are you coming back or what?”

Steve sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He wrinkled his nose when he realized that he had just smeared chocolate pie into his hair. “Alright, I’m coming back. Just… if he’s gone to sleep don’t bother waking him. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later Steve. Drive safe.”

 

 

Steve got home a little before sunrise practically shaking from all the nervous energy coursing through his veins. He snuck inside and locked the door slowly so that the lock wouldn’t click. He crept towards the living room when he was sure he had done a good enough job muffling the sound, trying to make a break for the couch. Unfortunately, his boots didn’t want to help with the whole stealth thing. On his next step they let out a loud squeak that could have woken the dead.

Bucky gave him a sleepy wave from the couch. He was bundled up in their good blankets, the ones they used when guests slept over. He perked up when he noticed that Steve was in fact getting closer and not just part of his dreams.

“Hey,” Bucky murmured. “You’re back early. I didn’t expect to see you for another few hours at least.”

Steve sat down on the arm of the couch by Bucky’s feet. He pulled off his leather jacket, tossing it onto the chair nearest him. He would have hung it up, but the closet door creaked like a dying animal whenever it was opened, and he was pretty sure that would have Tony up and about before he could so much as put the damned thing on the hanger. “I took a shortcut on the way back. I figured that you wouldn’t want to be stuck here alone.”

Bucky yawned, adjusting the squashed pillows beneath him with a practiced wiggle. “I’m only out here because he was playing his goddamned music so loud. The fucking walls are paper thin – I think we’re going have to seriously think about getting some proper insulation in here. This is getting ridiculous. The neighbors called _five_ times to complain.”

Steve hung his head in shame. “I handled this pretty badly, huh?”

“Nah. I think you did alright considering. You got the point across and you didn’t even have to leave the state,” Bucky chuckled, nudging Steve in the thigh with his sock clad foot. “I didn’t know what to do so I just stayed out of his way once I got off the phone with you. In hindsight, probably not the best maneuver, but I don’t think he wanted me around anyway.” He squinted at Steve, tugging the blankets up around his chin. “You’ve got a leaf in your hair.”

Steve scratched the back of his head, pulling the dried out leaf out of his bangs. He stared intently at it, wondering how it had managed to slip under his helmet without him realizing it. Was he really that hopeless?

He was a good leader, a competent tactician who could take down enemies without fear, but he had never had much in the way of skill when it came to understanding relationships; those had always happened to other people, not him. He had always watched from the sidelines, hoping that he would be allowed into that oh-so-private world.

Peggy had helped somewhat. She had been sweet and stern, showing him the ropes even though he had been so downhearted. He hadn’t been her first; she hadn’t been his either. She had told him horror stories about what her parents had done when they had found out about her youthful indiscretion. He had shared horror stories with her about what it was like behind the lines and in the cathouses between army bases and the trenches. They had had their fun when they could find the time, but they had never claimed to have been dating. Peggy had found him cute and a little naive, a sweet distraction while they waited the war out; he had found her endlessly patient.

Still, even if he had never been good relationships, he had always been good at knowing when he had done something wrong. He was pretty sure he had done the wrong thing this time – it seemed like he _always_ ended up doing the wrong thing one way or another. “I overreacted, didn’t I?” Steve sighed, already knowing the answer.

“Just go to bed _Romeo_. I’m sure you can make it up to each other if you work hard enough. Just try and keep it down, huh? I don’t want to have to break out the earplugs,” Bucky grunted. He rolled over, burying his head underneath the blankets. “Now go away. I’m tired.”

Steve swatted the lump of blankets playfully. “Alright, alright. I’ll go.” He pried his boots off with numb fingers, leaving them beside the hall closet to dry out; it had rained briefly on his way back through the forested road he had cut through, but he hadn’t even felt the cold until he had stepped through the door.

He rubbed his hands together, blowing into them until his frozen digits were tingling in that vaguely-warm-again kind of way. He didn’t feel much like going in to see Tony yet, but there wasn’t really anywhere else to go now that he was home. He had two choices really; he could hang out in the hallway like a three year old, or he could go in and talk things out if Tony was awake. As much as he could see the beauty in avoiding the awkwardness that was waiting for him, he knew it wouldn’t make things any easier by putting it off. Reluctantly, he pushed open his bedroom door and stepped inside.

Tony was curled up in a ball in the middle of the mattress; he had built himself a walled fortress, using everything soft he had been able to scavenge from Steve’s things. He was naked as a jaybird again; his expensive new clothing was lying in a ball on the floor like it was nothing more than a few discarded candy wrappers that hadn’t quite made their way to the trashcan.

Steve hung the once crisp dress shirt on the chair beside his drawing table so that it wouldn’t wrinkle any more than it already had; the rest he folded up and set neatly on top of his dresser hoping that he could sort it all out with a few presses of an iron later on.

He stripped down to his briefs, and then crawled into bed trying not to disturb Tony’s slumber. He lay still for what seemed like hours, watching Tony sleep from outside the blanket fortress, afraid of moving closer. The Incubus’ expression was calm, almost serene even; you would never know what kind of trouble Tony could get into when he was awake from looking at him like this.

Steve couldn’t help himself. He reached out and stroked Tony’s cheek, trying to be as gentle as possible.

 

Tony woke anyway, staring at Steve with strangely bloodshot eyes; he blinked away sleep, rubbing his cheek into the pillow when he realized that Steve wasn’t part of his dreams. He swallowed a yawn and nosed at Steve’s hand cautiously, asking for the touch without words. When Steve didn’t pull away, he crept closer, flattening the lumpy blanketed ridge out as he wrestled the blankets apart. He didn’t touch Steve; instead he simply stared at him through heavy lidded eyes, fumbling blindly with the blankets and sweaters.

“Hi,” Tony croaked when he found his voice.

“Hi,” Steve murmured back.

“I missed you.” Tony reached out tentatively, touching Steve’s shoulder and then yanked his hand back.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, surprised that Tony wasn’t rubbing up against him like always.

Tony shifted away, tugging the blankets up around him. “When did you get back in?”

“I got in an hour or so ago – didn’t want to wake you,” Steve said. “I’m sorry I left.”

Tony shrugged. His tail gave Steve a lazy pat on the shoulder. “It’s fine,” he muttered, closing his eyes again. “You should get some sleep. You look like you need it.”

Steve reached out, gently drawing Tony closer under the blankets. “I don’t have anything to do today. I guess I’ll just have to sleep in.” He tucked Tony against his chest, taking comfort in the way the smaller man snuggled closer without prompting; the familiar scratch of Tony’s beard against his neck made Steve smile again in relief.

He hadn’t thought he could miss something after being away for such a short period of time, but he had. He wondered if he would feel the same years from now – assuming of course that Tony stuck around. Lazy mornings spent cuddling would be on his agenda every day if he had Tony here with him; Bucky would have to pry him out of bed with a crow bar, but that wouldn’t be so bad. It would be a small price to pay for such warmth.

“I have to go at ten a.m.,” Tony mumbled into Steve’s throat. “I wish you had come back earlier.”

“Me too,” Steve sighed.

“You can come in to work with me if you want – _actually_ , that would probably be a good idea,” Tony yawned. His tail slipped between Steve’s legs, caressing the soft skin around his ankles. “I sort of had you two written into Howard’s contract. It seemed practical considering I’m here all the time.”

“Howard didn’t have a problem with it?”

“Oh, he bitched and moaned about how you two tried to intimidate him into signing away all of his money and freedom, but he gave in after I said it was either you have constant access to me or I leave completely.” Tony snuggled closer. “I don’t think he had too much of a problem with you being around all the time though; I think it was all for show. He has all of the security cameras programmed to focus in on you every time you walk into the building.”

“He – _what_?”

“Yeah, I found out about it when I was poking around in his security system, which if I may say runs on some of the most pathetic coding I have ever seen. He’s had someone slip in a module that tags you as ‘Steve Rogers’– like when you report to security and get a badge – and if ‘Steve Rogers’ is inside the building for more than thirty seconds, all the cameras are prompted to focus in on your face, chest and groin.” Tony snorted in disgust. “If I didn’t have to be around him in order to get the lab space I wouldn’t even want to be on the same continent with him.”

“I’m assuming you adjusted the coding,” Steve said dryly, running his fingers through Tony’s chaotic bedhead to try and straighten out some of the tangles.

Tony pressed a kiss to Steve’s throat. “Oh yeah. The next time he goes looking for his Captain America booty slash nut collection he’s going to find a lot of video of the yellow post-it stuck to his desk drawer. I set the cameras to zoom in four hundred percent just to make sure he couldn’t accidentally get anything else,” Tony snickered. “I deleted everything he had in his private Crotch Cam database too, so he might be a bit _miffed_ when we show up.”

“What did you get out of the deal anyway? I hope the snazzy suit and sunglasses weren’t the only thing he put in,” Steve said. He would have liked to have gotten a look at a copy of the contract before Tony had signed it, but at least he had Tony on hand to bounce questions off of; worse come to worse, he could always ask Natasha to sneak a copy out, or maybe have her hack into the database in case Howard tried to renege or edit the contract without Tony’s knowledge. It couldn’t hurt to make sure everything was above-board after all.

Steve had heard far too many rumors regarding Howard’s just barely legal business practices, most of them involving his love of collecting intellectual property rights; Howard boasted that what he did was to protect the world, to keep weaponry and advanced technology out of enemy hands where it could do real damage. Steve wasn’t so sure if Howard was being altruistic or just keeping his finger in all the nuclear pies.

Most of the SHIELD files on him painted as a lethal, albeit rational dictator who went after anything and anyone who he believed had infringed upon his rights, and when he went after you, you were lucky to come out of it with the shirt on your back; he was an Avenger, but only in name. He and SHIELD had been fighting for years because he consistently refused to sell patents to them, forcing them to pay significantly larger costs to own what he basically gave away to his friends for free.

Steve had always found it strange behavior on Howard’s part considering the fact that Howard had been responsible for SHIELD’s creation, but then again Howard seemed to go through phases every few years, becoming the old benevolent Howard-the-inventor one year and the you-can-go-suck-eggs-Howard the next. He hoped that Howard was having a good year, although the business in the Arctic made Steve think that it was going to be a go-suck-eggs-year no matter what happened now.

“You should go to sleep. Get a few hours rest and I’ll wake you up,” Tony moaned, sitting up. He stretched out, his tail doing the same and then shrugged off the blankets, slipping out of bed with a spring in his step. He wiggled his toes in Steve’s carpet, and then made his way to Steve’s bathroom while yawning into his hand. “I’m going to take a shower,”

“Okey dokey,” Steve mumbled. He closed his eyes, letting the pillows behind him absorb his bulk, slowly drifting off.

 

Steve snorted as he was shaken awake. He looked around the room, disoriented, and saw Tony standing over him dressed in his fancy suit again looking like someone off the cover of GQ. The wrinkles that had marred the dress shirt the night before were gone, pressed away and impeccably smooth. His beard was neatly trimmed, his eyes clear and bright as if the previous night’s bloodshot episode hadn’t happened.

“Get up sleepy head. We have to leave in fifteen minutes and you need to shower. You have chocolate pudding in your hair,” Tony said, tapping his foot.

“Fifteen – fifteen _minutes_?” Steve yelped as he leapt out of bed, nearly crippling himself when he flew towards the bathroom door with the blankets still wound around his ankles. He collided with the door jamb, grunting out a clipped curse.

Tony’s laughter was so loud Steve could hear it even through the sound of his teeth chattering from his cold, _cold_ shower. He scrubbed himself clean with a splintery bar of soap, furious that Tony had waited till the last minute to wake him up. The chocolate pudding was so caked into his hair the cold water wasn’t able to loosen it. He swore, almost willing to rationalize simply ripping the offending chunk of hair out.

The water started to warm up, and he allowed himself a brief thirty seconds to soak under it, the bar of soap clutched uselessly in his hand.

“I’m just kidding you know,” Tony chuckled, stalking into the bathroom. He leaned back against the sink, his tail playing with Steve’s toothbrush; his sunglasses sat perched on the tip of his nose. “You’ve actually got about twenty five minutes,” Tony murmured, examining his fingernails.

“You’re a real asshole sometimes,” Steve snapped, sticking his head out of the shower to glare at Tony.

“Oh, don’t say that honeypants. I stepped out and bought you _breakfast_ ,” Tony said, stealing the toothbrush from his tail when it seemed unwilling to put it back down of its own accord. He rolled it between his fingers, shooting Steve a winning smile. “We’ve got a driver, so don’t worry about rushing. Dear old dad gave me one of his – he’s some guy named Happy Hogan. He gave me a car too.”

Steve ducked his head back into the shower, the chill nearly washed from his bones. He scrubbed at the pudding splotch again, finally working it free and then went at it with a handful of shampoo, trying to swallow down the bitter taste of bile in his throat. He didn’t like being made fun of, hated being teased and tormented for someone else’s amusement. He closed his eyes, trying to remind himself that Tony was still learning – that what Tony had said the night before and right now were stepping stones instead of attacks. They had to be, because he couldn’t be this annoying and selfish on purpose, could he?

“Steve? You need a hand in there?” Tony sang, setting the toothbrush down. He wiggled his fingers as if to grab at the shower curtain and then scowled when Steve turned off the water.

“Hand me the towel, will you?” Steve grunted, wrapping his lower half in the shower curtain despite the fact that the thing was slimy as hell.

Tony grabbed Steve’s towel off the bar with a sour look on his face, thrusting it into Steve’s hands. “Here. It’s not like I was going to peek you know,” Tony grumbled. He watched Steve fight with the towel and the shower curtain and then stalked out of the bathroom in a huff with his arms crossed over his chest, muttering something under his breath; for once Steve was pretty sure he had become completely fluent in Incubus, because it sure as hell sounded like a few of the swears he had learned on the battlefield.

 

Steve sighed aloud. He squashed the curtain back against the tiled wall as he stepped out of the stall, toweling off as quickly as possible in case Tony decided to wander back in. He didn’t have to worry, although a little part of him was disappointed that Tony _hadn’t_ bothered to wait for him; the bedroom was empty, the door left wide open after Tony’s apparent flight.

Steve suffered through Bucky’s lewd wolf whistling and shut the door, struggling into his clothes. He froze, his shirt held under his nose. It smelled funny – _clean_ funny. He gave the shirt another sniff before pulling it over his head. His other clothing smelled the same, each item distinctly touched with the soft scent of flowers and cinnamon. Had Tony done laundry? Or was this just the Incubus’s smell leeching into everything? He would be hard pressed to say that the smell was bad. In fact, it was kind of hard to put his clothing on knowing that the sweet flowery smell would be gone by the end of the day, replaced by his own musk.

Steve looked around his bedroom, his stomach churning in discomfort. What _hadn’t_ Tony gone through? Had Tony searched through every drawer? Had he gone into the closet and sifted through every box? Steve’s chest felt tight; his breath caught in his throat. He could just see it now, Tony bent over while leafing through boxes, his tail rummaging through something else. The wonder in Tony’s eyes as he explored everything should have been adorable. He would have gone through every book, reading every word he found.

Only, there was one box in Steve’s closet that he hadn’t ever wanted open; one box that sat there only because he was too afraid to throw it out, or to burn the contents. The _tin_ was in there too. Steve swallowed hard, turning to face the closet. There was a faint tremor in his hand now. A bead of sweat ran down the back of his neck. He felt hot all over, an unpleasantly flush of embarrassment clambering all over his skin.

Was that why Tony was acting so strangely?

Had he found the box?

Steve couldn’t drive away the urge to look inside the crumpled box despite knowing what would happen when he did. He sat down cross legged on the floor and gingerly folded back the top chunk of cardboard feeling ill at ease; one look was all he needed to know. Tony had been in here, because while things looked like they were in the right order, they weren’t quite sitting the way Steve had left them, as if put back in a rush.

He pulled the box completely open, lifting out the tin and prying it open unable to resist the pull to check on things. Here were the dog tags of every member of the Howling Commandos. He had collected them diligently after he had woken up, each one asked for from surviving members of their families. It had been painful. He had hated himself for doing it, but it had felt like his responsibility to keep them safe; to guard them until it was time to sleep again. He had been their leader after all, the man who had commanded them in countless battles; they had trusted him with their lives, and he had kept his promises over and over. And when they had died – when he had failed to protect them that one last time, they had given him one more duty.

 

He sifted through the tags, finding the ones he looked at the most as easily as he might find a beloved recipe in a weathered cookbook. He had Peggy’s dog tags in here. These were the first ones she had been issued by British Intelligence; one was shaped like an octagonal green disc, the other circular and red. The American army had made a set of tags for her too, giving them to her after her years of exceptional service. Those were somewhere in the box near the bottom.

She had willed them to him before dementia had taken her away; wanting them to stay with his if they ever managed to recover his body. He had been touched by the gesture, and for a long time he hadn’t been able to look at them without crying.

He stroked the tags, rolling them over in his hand so that he could see her name emblazoned there; she was lost to him, just like everyone in this box. This was the only reunion they would ever have until he was dead. One day, Steve’s tags would be in here too, resting with all the other soldiers lost to battle or time. He had begged Bucky to watch over them in case something happened, unable to live with the thought of them being thrown away by someone who didn’t understand their meaning; Bucky had agreed, but he hadn’t looked happy about it.

Steve set Peggy’s tags back inside, closing the tin, mindful of the rusting metal. At one time he had intended to replace the tin with something better, something more worthy of the souls trapped within their walls. It was nothing but an old butter cookie tin he had gotten the Christmas after waking up, a gift from some nameless agent in SHIELD who had thought he needed a bit of cheering up. He wasn’t sure what had made him keep it in the end. He had just gotten to the bottom after eating through the cookies, fishing out the wax paper dividing the levels, and that had been it. It had just seemed right.

He turned to the sketchbooks in the box, delicately flipping the first one open; the pages here were loose and turning to dust. The sketchbook had spent years spent in storage, hiding in SHIELD’s archives after his landlord had dumped Steve’s things on them.

Steve had debated on scanning the pictures onto his computer but there had been something too ethereal about them, something that would be gone if they were nothing more than digitized pixels on a screen. They could die, he felt, turn to dust just like everything else; they were in his head after all, and they always would be. He didn’t need to give them immortal life on a computer.

He flipped to Peggy, beautiful, capable Peggy. He missed her so much. Some days, he would dream about her all night long; he would hear her laugh as he woke, catch sight of her as he struggled to turn the lights on. Those were the days it was hardest to crawl out of bed.

“Steve?”

Bucky pulled the door open, peering in as he hung on the door frame. He caught sight of Steve and let out a long, weary sigh. “I know you’re lost in thought here buddy, but we’ve only got a few minutes left until we have to go.”

“Oh?” Steve looked up sharply, closing the book. He wiped the lead and dust off his fingers, smearing the carpet with it and then put everything away, setting the tin on top of the pile. He pushed the box back into the closet and stood up, flattening the cardboard lid down when it refused to stay put.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “I didn’t realize it had been so long.”

 

Bucky smiled knowingly. “I get it. Don’t worry.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Steve sighed, scrubbing a hand over his chin. He scowled when he felt stubble beneath his fingers; there wasn’t any time to shave, so he supposed he would have to live with it even if it did itch like hell.

Bucky turned and looked over his shoulder into the living room, glancing at Tony; the Incubus was busy playing with his phone, glaring at the device like it had insulted his mother. Bucky slipped inside and closing the door with a soft click. He gestured stiffly towards the closet, looking grim and stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve, surveying the room. “You think he looked, don’t you.”

“We should get going,” Steve said, biting his lower lip. He squeezed Bucky’s shoulder, grabbing the door handle. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” He walked over to the table where he found a mound of breakfast burgers waiting for him. He picked one up and ripped the wrapper open; it was greasy as hell, the best kind, with drippy cheese and crispy bacon. “It’s fine,” he said again, even though it wasn’t.

 

 

The ride to Stark Tower was uneventful, bordering on boring even with traffic doing its best to cause mayhem at each turn; Happy knew where he was going, and made his way through the bustling streets with the grace one might expect of an experienced chauffer. People should have been showering him with roses, he was that good.

Steve had been driven around in vintage cars before, but it was clear that Tony didn’t know that. He seemed to be preening every time Steve turned away from the window. He watched both Steve and Bucky with hidden eyes, waiting for someone to say something about the car; his sunglasses should have looked silly indoors, but they didn’t even though he had shined the shit out of them with his sleeve. Steve wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Tony’s ego didn’t seem to need any more fluffing, and by the looks of it he was fishing for a few compliments to make his morning a little sweeter.

When they walked through the lobby Tony showboated for all he was worth, nodding and grinning at anyone he walked past; some people, however, didn’t warrant a nod which seemed to rub them the wrong way. They shot Tony dark looks, standing stiffly like they might decide to suddenly whip out the rotten vegetables and mouldy cheese. Thankfully they didn’t do anything outright aside from some rather obvious glaring.

Steve tried to smooth things over by nodding and smiling at the people Tony had missed, but somehow he didn’t think it made as much of an impact; some of them recognized him, but most people seemed to think he was Tony’s personal assistant, or so he gathered from their muttering.

Security seemed to know who Tony was even though he hadn’t bothered to show them an ID badge. They didn’t even bother to take a second look at Steve or Bucky when they followed him into the elevator. The two guards were bored out of their minds; Steve was pretty sure he had seen solitaire open on their computers when they had walked past the desk. He wondered if he should have a talk with them about it later, uneasy with their ambivalence.

 

The elevator music was droll, right up until Tony got bored with it; with a casual flick on his phone, the tinny elevator speakers were suddenly belting out ACDC at ear-splitting levels. “This is great,” Tony yelled over the music. “I can mess with their systems through my phone.”

“That’s nice,” Steve yelled back, his eyes watering. “But can you turn it down a bit? I think my ears are going to start bleeding.”

Tony ignored him, his eyes glued to his phone.

Steve and Bucky clapped their hands over their ears trading irritated looks as Tony swayed to the music, his tail waggling behind him.

“I don’t think he heard you,” Bucky shouted into Steve’s ear.

“What?” Steve shouted back.

 

 

Howard barreled towards them the moment the elevator doors snapped opened; Steve had to throw himself in front of Tony to keep him from getting _mauled_.

It wasn’t hard to tell that Howard was furious, although his wrath seemed to be far more manic than usual. Steam was practically coming out his ears. His face was brick red and his nostrils were flaring so widely it was as if they might spring clean off of his face. Howard struggled to get around Steve seething and swearing, clawing at the air in a way that might have been laughable if Steve hadn’t recognized murderous glint in Howard’s beady little eyes.

“You _deleted_ – I’ll _burn_ you – when I get my hands on _you_ ,” Howard roared, thrashing in Steve’s grasp.

Tony lifted his sunglasses up, settling them on top of his head amidst his perfectly styled hair. His lips curled into a smirk. “What are you talking about _Dad_? Did something happen to a certain _collection_ of yours? Maybe Steve can help you out.”

The colour drained from Howard’s face. He looked up and saw who it was holding him still and then went backwards faster than a cat threatened with a bath. The grey suit he was wearing, another expensive designer monstrosity was wrinkled to hell; he attempted to straighten himself out once he was a safe distance away from Steve, a pained smile taking the place of his earlier snarl. “You were supposed to be here for nine thirty,” Howard hissed through his teeth. “It is now ten thirty.”

Tony rolled his shoulders; he strutted past Steve towards the workshop Howard had come barreling out of, his tail slapping Howard in the hip. “Is this it then?”

“This is it,” Howard confirmed with a grunt, rubbing at his hip. He scowled darkly when he saw Tony tapping at the security pad keeping the workshop sealed. “You don’t even know the _code_ ,” Howard snorted. “Don’t you know how to _wait_?”

“Waiting is for chumps,” Tony laughed.

The doors opened; Steve wasn’t exactly surprised, but Howard on the other hand looked a little like he might faint dead away.

Tony slipped inside eyeing the expensive technology with a shark-like grin. “Oh _yes_ , this is beautiful,” Tony murmured giddily, rubbing his hands together.

Steve followed after him trying not to laugh with Bucky on his left and Howard staggering along behind him on his right. Tony wasn’t wrong; it really was beautiful once you got past the white walls, blinking lights and the ominous hum of the lights. It felt a little like they had been transported to an alien spacecraft.

Everything was brand-new, every gizmo electrical and metallic to some extent; it was colder in here than it had been in the hallway, likely arranged that way to keep the pricey equipment from overheating. Steve found himself shivering uncontrollably. He shifted his arm, very aware of the drop in temperature.

“Sort of _nipple-ish_ in here,” Bucky drawled, flicking Steve in the left nipple.

“ _Bucky_!” Steve yelped in surprise, rubbing at his now throbbing nipple. He was glad that his cries hadn’t drawn any attention; both Howard and Tony were too busy looking around. Steve swatted Bucky in the shoulder and turned back to watching Tony flitter about between pieces of technology.

Tony picked up every tool he walked past, muttering under his breath as he identified and catalogued what he saw. He seemed to need to touch everything even if it was bolted down; he ran his fingers over tabletops, tapped at the computer monitors and rubbed up against the wrenches.

“I take it everything is to your liking,” Howard said sardonically, fixing his crooked tie.

“It’s not the best, but of course nothing here really is,” Tony said with a shrug, heading to metal cabinets against the wall. “You bought all the parts on my list?”

“As much as I could,” Howard said with a stiff nod. “Don’t waste anything, boy. That stuff’s hard to come by – needless to say, it’s expensive.”

“Of course it is,” Tony grunted. His tail opened up a drawer while he opened another. “It’s made out of the best quality alloys your world has to offer. I wouldn’t expect it to be _cheap_. Cheap is for garbage – for trinkets and toys. I want durability. I don’t intend to end up with work that disintegrate after one use.”

“Durability is _expensive_ ,” Howard snapped, crossing his arms. “You’d know that if you spent more time thinking about business and less time with your head in the clouds. I’ve got a tutor for you by the way – she’ll be your assistant once you’ve completed your mandatory lessons.”

Tony lifted his head up, looking unimpressed. “You got me a tutor?”

“Yes. You signed the contract _brat_ , and it explicitly said – _all_ of this,” Howard sneered. “Don’t try to weasel out of it!”

“Who said I was trying to weasel out of anything? I’m just not sure I need a tutor. All I need are a few books and a couple of hours to read them. I don’t need _teachers_ – teachers are _slow_ ,” Tony said with a snort, turning back to his exploration. He pulled a bundle of insulated wires and soldering materials from the drawer he was half hanging out of, rubbing his thumb over the copper connecting prongs. His tail delicately plucked a soldering iron out from the depths of yet another drawer, handing it to him over his shoulder. He strode over to the worktable with his collection, dumping it with a smirk. “I’m going to build a robot,” Tony said, diving back into the drawers to pull out a plastic sealed stack of motherboards and microchips. “This is going to be _fun_.”

“Can I have a copy of the contract he signed?” Steve asked Howard. His lips twitched as he tried hard not to smile. Tony looked like a kid in a candy shop, his eyes all wide and eager.

Howard didn’t look too happy, but he didn’t put up much of a fight. He led Steve over to the console in the corner of the room that looked the least impressive. “I don’t know how you’ve put up with him for as long as you have,” Howard grumbled as he yanked at a keyboard, logging in to the system. His hands were shaking in a way that must have been far from pleasant for him and it didn’t seem to be because of the air conditioning. He clicked through windows, pulling up a PDF that had clearly been scanned in earlier that morning if the timestamp on the bottom left-hand corner was anything to go by; it was all very simple, far simpler than Steve had expected.

“As you can see, I’ve got the files all here. There’s nothing to worry about – oh. Shit,” Howard groaned, as the mouse suddenly darted across the screen towards the close button; the PDF abruptly snapped closed, vanishing from the screen. “Sorry,” Howard sighed, dragging the mouse across the screen again. “I hate this damned thing.”

“Funny,” Steve said. “I thought you liked technology.”

Howard shrugged jerkily. “When you get to my age, you’ll understand. My eyes aren’t as great as they used to be, I’ll tell you. Some days I can barely read what’s on these damned screens.” He pulled open the file and then closed it again by accident, cursing.

Steve watched Howard work, barely resisting the urge to take the mouse out of his hand. There had been rumors in SHIELD that suggested Howard had given up on inventing due to arthritis or some other unspecified illness, but he hadn’t thought it was true; Howard had seemed fine out in the field, but maybe he had been mistaking the shakes he had seen for ones caused by the cold Arctic air. According to other unnamed sources, Howard was doling out sketched ideas to his Research and Development team instead of working on them himself; some had said he had a hard time with computers, and seeing Howard now made it very clear that the rumors weren’t far from the truth. He wondered what else Howard was hiding.

Howard still had his smarts, Natasha had assured Steve in private, but he didn’t seem to have the will to do anything with it anymore. Instead of building new innovative products, Howard had his employees messing around with phones and games, bouncing the designs between the old brick style handhelds and the more portable devices able to fit in the palm of someone’s hand. None of it was particularly breathtaking, and most of the phones he had put into production were horribly flawed and had piss-poor networking; half of the people using them complained about lost mail, and the fact that the batteries seemed to enjoy lighting on fire.

Back in the day Howard Stark would never have released something that defective; these days it seemed that defective tech was the only things that came off the factory floor.

With Tony around things would definitely get better for them, Steve could just feel it.

 

“Wow, that’s a doozy of a contract,” Bucky whistled, peering over Steve’s shoulder. “You must have really burned the midnight oil to get that sucker out.”

Howard scowled at him. “I have a legal team for a _reason_ you know.”

Bucky was right. The contract was gigantic, each section broken up by headings and subheadings that would have made a normal person cringe at the level of detail; it wasn’t the biggest document Steve had ever had the privilege of seeing, but it was in his top ten. Howard’s legal team, made up of twenty three individuals, had signed the verification agreement on the final page along with Howard; Tony’s signature was scrawled illegibly in a box beside theirs, his name almost impossible to identify amidst the mad scribbling.

“This is the smaller version. The larger one has more of the actual legal mumbo-jumbo, but I figured that you would want to read the down to earth version. You want a hard copy?” Howard asked, mousing over the print button. “I’ll have to go upstairs to collect it of course. I could always just email it to you and you could print it yourself.”

Steve smiled sweetly. “A copy would be dandy. I’d appreciate it if you emailed it to me too.” He could recognize a stalling tactic from a mile away, and Howard wasn’t going to talk him into leaving without a hard copy in his hand and an electronic version in his inbox; he cursed himself for forgetting to bring a memory stick. It was sitting on his dresser, left behind in his rush to get out the door. Hopefully his email would be able to handle the attachment if it was as large as he suspected. “And make it the full version please. I don’t mind the mumbo-jumbo.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be right back,” Howard growled testily, pulling up a second document. He nodded towards Tony. “Keep an eye on him, will you? I don’t want to have to rebuild the place from _scratch_ if he blows something up. With my luck he’ll probably manage it with his box of scraps.”

Steve smiled thinly as Howard sauntered off. He stepped behind the console, perusing the file being printed just to make sure that he was getting his hands on the right document. He wouldn’t have put it past Howard to give them a slightly less accurate copy just to spite Tony; dumbing it down was just plain insulting, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t had the same thing happen to him before. SHIELD liked to pretend he was stupid too, and while he didn’t appreciate it, sometimes it was easier to pretend to be dumb as a stump than it was to act smart; at least then he could cut through the bullshit once they were done talking out of their asses. Besides, Bucky always thought it was good for a laugh.

“You trust him?” Bucky asked, resting his chin on his hand.

“About as far as I can throw him,” Steve chuckled. While computers weren’t Steve’s best friend, he was well enough versed in technobabble to know that what Howard had printed was indeed the correct copy – or at least a duplicate of the agreement Tony had signed. There were three hundred pages here that could have given a room full of lawyers the vapors. The Latin filled each page so thoroughly, it was almost impossible for a layman to understand more than half a sentence at a time. He could pick out a handful of words he recognized, some of them English and some of in Latin, and while he was no slouch he had to give up trying to puzzle it out; if the font size had been any smaller he might have gone permanently blind from squinting at it so hard.

How had Tony navigated _any_ of these pages?

This was a bloody labyrinth of information! Steve had signed his own body away through military contracts, but that was _nothing_ by comparison; those pages had looked like children’s bedtime stories – this was the kind of thing nightmares were born from. Tony would have had to have swallowed a few Latin dictionaries in order to get this contract read all the way through; Steve didn’t doubt Tony’s intelligence, but this was just plain _scary_.

“Having fun?” Tony called out. He had rolled his sleeves up and dumped his jacket onto the floor as if it was just a ratty old sweatshirt. Steve tried not to scowl at him, aghast by the behavior. It was Tony’s choice to destroy what he wore after all, even if it was a few thousand dollars’ worth of designer threads. It wasn’t like it was _his_ business what Tony did after all.

“I wouldn’t say I was having fun. I’m just trying to figure out what Howard put in your contract,” Steve grumbled, scrolling through pages.

“Oh? The interesting stuff starts on page seventeen and runs until page two hundred. The rest is all stipulations and requirements for when he dies and I take over the company,” Tony said. He stuck a screwdriver between his teeth, hooking up wires to the correct ports with his now free hands; his creation had doubled in size already and new wire littered the table like he was being attacked by a futuristic ball of twine. Tony’s tail was busy typing on a computer terminal nearby tapping code out as if it had been born to do it. He wasn’t even looking at what his tail was doing. His eyes were glued to the soldering that lay waiting.

“Most of the good stuff is written in English without Latin to make sure it’s understandable by the masses. I figured that you’d appreciate that,” Tony mumbled around the screwdriver.

“Very much so,” Steve said, scrolling to page seventeen. This part of the contract _was_ a lot easier to understand. It was an interesting read too; each point had been laid out succinctly, every word meaningful and to the point. The sweeteners Howard had doled out to get Tony to attach himself to the Stark name went on well past page ninety and all the way to page one hundred and four. All of it was icing on a rather delicious cake, one that any man or woman would love to get their hands on; of course said cake would probably leave everyone bloated, unhappy and very, very trapped in a lifestyle they wouldn’t ever be able to escape from, so it wasn’t all rainbows and sprinkles.

Some of the offers were genuinely useful, stuff that would make Tony’s life much, much easier. Tony would have access to his own private lab at any hour of the day and it would be accessible by him and only him, with his direct permission required for anyone else to gain entry; Steve was glad to see that Howard hadn’t been childish when it came to his son’s safety, even if it was probably just to protect his own interests.

All of the designs, and tech Tony came up with while working on Stark International property would be registered, patented and filed under Tony’s name when he choose to sell it. He would be the sole benefactor from the sales, and not a cent would go back to Stark International unless Tony agreed to it. Tony was also entitled to any equipment he wanted, all parts available at _any_ cost to Stark International – even if the price was higher than what Howard was willing to pay. He would also have access to Research and Development, but those visits would cost him. Anything he tinkered with in R &D would be Howard’s and Howard’s alone; it was likely Tony wasn’t going to be visiting there any time soon, if at all.

There were other gratuities, little extras thrown in to keep Tony from running off to work with SHIELD if they tried to offer him something better. Tony would have a full wardrobe, designer clothing galore and access to an expense account filled with enough money to suitably take care of a whole apartment building for years provided of course that he didn’t run out and blow it all on his own private island.

Steve whistled. It certainly was impressive, and from looking at things he was pretty sure Tony had covered everything. Howard wouldn’t have a leg to stand on if he broke their agreement in any way.

“He has an apartment upstairs too, by the way, if you haven’t read that part yet,” Howard said as he returned.

The papers he handed Steve were still warm from the printer, smelling faintly of ink. Steve gave them a once over to make sure that every page was accounted for and in order; he had Bucky take a look at it too just in case he had missed something. He chuckled when Bucky licked his fingers after every page turn, accepting the pile back when Bucky seemed satisfied that he had gotten enough of a look.

“I’ve emailed the whole shebang to your work and private email accounts. SHIELD has a copy too of course,” Howard smirked, rubbing his thumb over his upper lip. “I want to see Fury’s face when he gets a whiff of it. That deal he handed Tony earlier in the week won’t be worth the paper it’s printed on once my lawyers get through with it. Duress and all that – it’s not legal if my boy was tricked into signing it.”

Steve raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Lawyers probably wouldn’t be able to say that Tony hadn’t been forced into _this_ contract either, although he doubted anyone would have the courage to try saying it in the first place.

“It says in here that you want both Bucky and I to have ID badges,” Steve said. ID badges meant registration, and he had never been too fond of putting his John Hancock on any contract doled out to a secret entity. It was bad enough having his information in SHIELD’s database; having Howard Stark’s techs able to casually peruse his files made his skin crawl.

“Yes, but they’re nothing big. Just photo ID’s with a serial number on the bottom. You’ll have passkeys to the apartment as well – all as stipulated. Again, I’m not trying to force you into anything my dear Captain. I’m just trying to insure that the Stark name is taken care of when the time comes,” Howard said, clearing his throat. “I’d have been happier if Tony had been raised by me, but this is the best I’m going to get considering my age. It’s not like I’m going to shoot off any more fresh seeds – not at my age.”

“Lovely,” Bucky grimaced, moving away to go look at what Tony was doing. “I’ll be over here vomiting.”

“Is that all this is?” Steve asked, “A way to keep the Stark name on the side of the building?” It wasn’t like he expected Howard to start doling out praise and sweet words about his son, but it would have been nice if he had at least seemed sincerely happy for a few seconds.

Howard’s lips curled into an unpleasant sneer. “Oh Steve, I wouldn’t do something like _that_ – not to my own flesh and blood.”

“Of course. I wasn’t insinuating anything,” Steve grunted. “I was just wondering if you had any plans for SHIELD that I should know about.”

Howard’s sneer brightened considerably. He pulled at his lapels, licking his lips. “Oh yes – I have plenty planned for SHIELD. You might want to disassociate yourself from them in the next, oh, few hours or so.” He picked an imaginary piece of lint off of Steve’s jacket, his hands stroking their way up Steve’s chest in a way that was far too friendly for Steve’s liking. “They’ve been keeping information from me. I don’t like being kept in the dark.”

“And you think they’re trying to get something from you?” Steve raised an eyebrow, dislodging Howard’s hands with a sweep of his arm.

“I _know_ they are. This is the best way to continue my line. I wouldn’t want my creations left behind for petty weasels like Obadiah Stane or Nick Fury to play with.” Howard smiled, moving into Steve’s space despite the irritated look on Steve’s face. “I might be willing to make an exception for _you_ on the other hand, provided of course that you give me of something equal in value.” He took Steve’s hand in his own as if to shake it and then began to rub his thumb over Steve’s palm, sighing to himself when he reached Steve’s wrist; the fine trembling to his fingers made it seem as if Steve was being clutched at by some kind of portable massager, and while it was far from pleasant he didn’t have the heart to yank his hand away without at least waiting a few seconds; for all he know Howard might just fall over and break a hip if he did.

Howard stared up at him as he went up on his toes. The look on the man’s face could have put a five year old to shame, the puppy dog eyes turned up to full blast. “What do you say sweetheart? Give a sweet old man one last hurrah?”

“I don’t think so Howard,” Steve said, shaking his head. He tried to drop Howard’s hand and found his own hand trapped in a grip far more powerful than expected.

Howard smiled sweetly at him, moving closer so that there was little to no space between them; he could feel Howard’s breath on his throat. “Come on Captain – I’m sure you’ll have _fun_. It’s not like we can’t mess around. _You’re_ not dating anyone – I’m _single_. What’s the harm in going a few rounds?”

“He’s not on the market old man,” Tony growled, dropping the cables and screwdrivers he had been so diligently working with onto his worktable as if they were useless bits of confetti; Tony’s tail jerked away from the keyboard.

Bucky squawked in surprise and quickly set everything back in place, keeping the pricy electronics from smashing to bits on the concrete floor when they tried to make a roll for freedom. He tangled his hands in the connecting cables, nearly stabbing himself on the sharp edges of the motherboards.

Howard cocked his head to the side. He didn’t move so much as an inch away from Steve, even though Steve was busy doing his best to pry his hand free without breaking the old man’s bird-like bones. “Everything is for sale, boy, you just need to know how to ask,” Howard purred. “Did you think that romance _meant_ something in this world? It’s a means to an end – a way to get someone into bed without using those fancy pheromones of yours.”

Tony slid forwards, pushing himself in between Steve and Howard; Howard’s grasp was broken with a startling amount of force. The older Stark staggered backwards in surprise.

“There’s no sale here – he’s _mine_ and you’d better keep your filthy mitts off of him,” Tony growled dangerously. His tail swished back and forth, wrapping covetously around Steve’s middle, holding him in place. “And if you touch him again you’re breaching your own contract, _remember_?”

“There’s nothing in there that says I can’t hit on _Steve_ ,” Howard snapped. “Smarten up!”

Tony’s smile was so sharp it could have sliced flesh. “Actually, I think you’ll find if you read point seventy eight, you’ll find that there is.”

Howard glared at Tony. “You’re bluffing.”

“Go read the contract again, old man,” Tony sneered, leaning back against Steve’s chest. He pushed himself in between Steve’s arms so that he couldn’t be moved away even if Steve tried to get free, tying himself tightly against Steve’s body with his tail.

“Tony,” Steve sighed. He didn’t bother trying to break free; he would rather have Tony wrapped around him than Howard any day even if it was annoying to be trapped in place. At least this way Howard wasn’t going to get another chance to grab him without getting his hand nipped.

“Alright,” Howard hissed, still glaring at his son. He stomped over to the computer terminal he had drawn the contract up on and pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his breast pocket; he read with the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, his finger trailing along each and every sentence. He was done in half the time it had taken Steve to scan the document, and when he finished he had a triumphant grin on his face. “It doesn’t say anything about Steve,” he crowed in delight, jabbing a finger in Tony’s direction as he approached the pair. “I can do whatever I like to Steve.”

“It says, and I’m quoting directly here,” Tony said crossly, “Howard Stark is not allowed to flirt, harass, or otherwise irritate Tony Stark’s intended spouse.”

“You don’t even _have_ a spouse! You don’t even have a _girlfriend_!” Howard roared.

“I have a Steve – I mean, Steve’s been my boyfriend for a long time now, and he’s covered under that clause.” Tony snapped back, his cheeks colouring a deep red.

Howard’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious,” he said, looking to Steve as if he expected Steve to suddenly protest. “You two can’t get _married_!”

“I believe that you’ll find New York passed a law recently which solves that very problem. We could walk into a courtroom and get married today if we wanted to.” Tony smirked, rocking back on his heels so that he could bump his ass against Steve’s groin. “Steve’s my intended spouse.”

“Uh,” Bucky broke in, finally managing to untangle himself from the mess that was Tony’s latest creation, “doesn’t _Steve_ have some kind of say in that? I mean, I don’t think _he_ thinks you’re dating.”

Tony blinked slowly, processing what had just been said. He turned, his tail letting Steve free one precious inch at a time. He looked up at Steve with an almost hurt look on his face. “You don’t?”

“Well we haven’t exactly talked about it,” Steve agreed, giving Bucky a thankful smile. “You’ve barely spoken to me at all. Frankly, I was under the impression that we were just really close friends.”

“You can’t be serious…” Tony murmured in desperation. He looked from Steve to Howard, his mouth opening and closing. “So you… you don’t mind that he’s hitting on you?”

“I never said that,” Steve said, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I’m just saying that right now I don’t know where our relationship, if there is one, actually stands.”

“But you’re moving in with me, _aren’t_ you?” Tony’s voice was strangled, barely audible. He stubbornly locked eyes with Steve as if daring him to say no. “It’s a great place – you’ll like it!”

“Tony,” Steve murmured, taking Tony by the shoulders. Christ, Steve thought, they hadn’t even kissed properly yet and Tony thought that they were _dating_ – no, that wasn’t quite it. Tony thought that they were going to get _married_. They hadn’t even _talked_ about dating.

“I need to think about things before we go any further,” he said, praying that Howard wasn’t going to be the damned lout Steve knew he was and take what Steve had said as some sign of being given the A-OK to do whatever he wanted.

“Bucky can move in too,” Tony said quickly, grabbing Steve’s sleeves and tugging at them. “Your apartment is tiny! The one upstairs has two separate bathrooms, and three bedrooms – we can go upstairs. Let’s look at it. I guarantee that you’ll like it.”

“Alright, we can look,” Steve agreed reluctantly, allowing himself to be tugged towards the elevator. “Come on Bucky, let’s go take a look.”

Bucky was more than happy to oblige, pushing away from Tony’s workstation; he hip checked Howard as he passed, knocking him back a step. “Sounds good to me.”

Howard scowled at them, shaking his head as he stuffed his reading glasses back into his breast pocket. “When you’re done fooling around with the child Steve, let me know. I’ll be waiting.”

“Don’t count on it old man,” Tony growled as he dragged Steve into the elevator, his eyes flashing, “He’s mine!”

 

 

Tony hadn’t been kidding. The apartment was at least five times the size of Steve’s; his current apartment could have fit comfortably in one of the _bathrooms_.

At one time there had been talk of the Avengers moving into Stark International with Howard, and rumor had it that he had built floors and rooms for them even though he had never said anything about it to them directly. This had to have been a remnant from those better times because there was no way Howard could have had the place built, cleaned and furnished in less than a day even with the kind of cash he could throw around.

Three people could live up there quite comfortably; a few others could have joined them and it would still have been just as spacious. Steve inspected everything with a fake smile plastered on his face, trying to keep Tony from dragging him off into one of the bedrooms to ‘test out’ the mattresses.

Bucky seemed more curious about their surroundings, eyeballing the furniture and fixtures they way he might hostile enemies; more than once Steve saw him measuring things out with his arms, frowning at spaces that didn’t quite seem to be as wide as he had expected.

The place had been decorated by some modern interior designer, someone who liked metal and sharp edges; it wasn’t entirely friendly, but if they brought their own furniture in things might just brighten up.

That was one of the problems with fully furnished apartments; there was nothing to do to it, no way to make it homey unless you went out of your way to get rid of the furniture that was already there. Thankfully, they owned their apartment outright so they could leave their things behind if need be and just rent it out; not that he wanted to do that.

“So,” Tony said, clearing his throat. He threw himself down on the red leather loveseat, spreading himself out across the cushions with his tail playfully gripping one of the arm rests. “What do you think? When are you going to move in?” He looked right at home, relaxed and ready to settling down for an afternoon of debauchery.

“It’s a very nice place Tony,” Steve conceded, looking around the living room. The place was certainly stocked with the best of the best. The television alone had probably set Howard back at least five grand, and that wasn’t even with the sound system and the various video players included; there was even a gaming system sitting underneath the television, some newfangled thing Steve had never seen before. Howard had certainly prepared for every eventuality.

Steve doubted, however, that they were alone. He wondered how much of Howard’s security system was lurking behind those lavish furnishings, spying on them in the background; Tony seemed to be capable of diving head first into Howard’s system without too much trouble, so he was pretty sure Howard wouldn’t be getting an eyeful of anything unless Tony arranged for it. He hoped that Tony wasn’t planning on broadcasting things he shouldn’t.

“It’s nice,” Steve said again, pursing his lips.

He supposed that it would probably be alright if they moved in here. Tony would take care of things. It wasn’t as if they had a lot of secret information lying around in their apartment all the time at any rate; Howard was an Avenger after all, even if it was only on paper and he got the same briefings they did. Still, the thought of so many cameras made him uncomfortable.

“So you’ll move in tonight? We can go back now and get everything we need if you want,” Tony said in delight.

Steve looked at Bucky, gnashing his teeth. “I think we need to talk about it a bit first Tony,” he said.

Bucky nodded in agreement. “We need time – at least a few days to work things out. There’s a lot of stuff to go over if we’re going to move. We have to fill out paperwork at SHIELD and we need to notify the Avengers about where we’ve going and all that jazz. _Assuming_ of course that we decide to move,” Bucky shrugged. “We can’t all just pick up and leave at a moment’s notice like you.”

Tony looked scandalized. “You’re shitting me,” he said, unconsciously rubbing grease all over his cheekbones when he scratched at his beard.

“No, I’m not shitting you,” Steve sighed, resting a hand on the arm rest beside Tony’s now twitching tail. “I can’t just run off – I have responsibilities. There are people I need to keep in the loop. It’s not as easy to jump ship as you think it is.”

“So go,” Tony growled, kicking at Steve’s leg. He connected with the meat of Steve’s thigh, and while it didn’t hurt it still shocked Steve enough to get him to take a step back in surprise. “Go– think about your little _decision_ and get back to me when you’re done. I don’t have time to sit around all day waiting for you,” Tony grumbled, standing up. He straightened his clothing, sniffed at Steve and stomped away to the elevator, vanishing inside before Steve could so much as call out his name.

 

Bucky winced. “Jeeze, what crawled up _his_ ass and died?” He grabbed Steve by the arm, giving him a good shake. Steve bobbled in his grasp, feeling a little like his head wasn’t quite connected to his body anymore.

“You alright? You look a little pale Stevie,” Bucky asked.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair; he felt at a sticky patch that had escaped his earlier pudding cleansing and found himself weary, so very, very weary of life. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I guess I didn’t think it was going to get such a bad response, you know?”

Bucky nodded in agreement, pushing Steve towards the elevator. “Let’s go grab some lunch. We can talk it out.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed in despair.

“Yeah, and you can even order yourself dessert. I won’t judge,” Bucky said with a wink.

“Oh gee,” Steve sighed even louder, hanging his head. “That’s just _great_.”

 

 

 

Steve bit into his cheeseburger, savoring the flavor of meat and cheese as it melted in his mouth. This was his second burger so far, and his stomach was probably going to invite a third one to join it once this one was gone. Bucky was on his second burger as well. He was currently chowing down on a few fries that had escaped his notice the first time around, stabbing at the puddle of ketchup on his plate.

Neither of them had said a word about what had happened in the apartment; they had sat there stuffing their faces for the past forty minutes staring off into space.

“So,” Bucky said, dipping a fry in more ketchup.

“So,” Steve agreed through a mouthful of food. He attacked the burger, gnawing through a particularly touch chunk of bacon. While he usually ate like this, something felt different today. Sure, he could down three or four cheeseburgers no problem, but there had never been that awkward, nervous fluttery feeling in his gut while he was doing it.

“You don’t want to move, do you?” Bucky said, wiping his ketchup sticky fingers on a once pristine napkin.

Steve sagged in his side of the booth, leaning back against the padded seat, wishing that it would just swallow him up already. “No,” he said, making short work of the rest of the burger. It was gone in two bites, nothing more than a greasy stain on his fingers. He licked them clean for good measure and then stared sullenly at Bucky’s fries from across the table, hating himself craving them.

Bucky sighed and pushed his plate across the table towards Steve. “You don’t have to feel bad about it you know. It’s not like you were given any notice,” he muttered. “You’re not being unreasonable here – at least not in my books.”

Steve snatched up the plate, setting it on his stomach as he continued to slouch unhappily. “It’s not that,” he moped, stuffing a fry into his mouth.

“Then what is it?” Bucky asked. He flagged the server down again and got them a fresh round of burgers and fries, getting a few pieces of cherry and apple pie thrown in for free. It was alamode too; he always had been a sweet talker.

Steve forced himself to slow down; he nibbled at the fries, waiting patiently for the new ones to arrive.

How was he supposed to explain this kind of thing to Bucky? They were close friends, sure, but neither of them was particularly great with people unless they were throwing around orders in the heat of battle. They had always steered away from talking about their feelings in the past, saving those tidbits so that they could be taken out back, shot and buried in their long term memory. Some things were just better not seeing the light of day.

“Oh come on, I know it’s bothering you so why don’t you just spit it out?” Bucky groaned, thumping the table with his fist; his soda glass danced a little jig before falling silent. Thankfully the rest of the restaurant was empty, so no dirty looks were sent their way. They had picked one of the family run joints in the neighborhood and found themselves a nice little booth to hide in, which meant that while they were out in public, it wasn’t likely they would be overheard.

“He thought we were going to get married,” Steve muttered. He ate another fry, finishing the crumbs and half burnt bits left behind. He set the plate onto the table. “He doesn’t even talk to me about _anything_. He just assumes that we’re now together for life.”

“And you wanted what exactly? The wine-and-dine routine?” Bucky snorted. “We all know where _that_ goes.”

“I want a relationship that means something – I _want_ to be treated like I matter, not like I’m someone’s possession,” Steve said.

Bucky fell silent. “You…” He wiped his mouth with his napkin, although Steve noted that there was nothing there to really wipe away anymore, and snatched up his pop downing the watery contents in one massive gulp.

“Are we _really_ talking about this? Alright… I suppose we can talk about this. About… _feelings_ …” he shuddered.

Steve shot him a dirty look. They were two grown men – they could talk about whatever they wanted. It wasn’t like someone was going to walk up and point and laugh at the pair of them for talking about a few feelings over a meal; he had never been afraid of bullies, and he would be damned if he let them chase him off now, even if they were only imaginary voices in the back of his mind.

“He hasn’t even kissed me,” Steve said, hanging his head. The words felt heavy on his tongue, and for a moment he couldn’t remember why he was even bothering to say anything in the first place, seeing nothing but the uncomfortable look on Bucky’s face. “I thought I would be fine with it, you know? I mean it’s not like he’s human – he doesn’t know how things work around here, but it’s like he doesn’t even care.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Bucky said, fiddling with the napkin holder. “I think he cares at least a _little_ bit.”

“What makes you say that?” Steve murmured.

The server brought them their food, joked about how they were trying to eat the place out of business and then left, giving Bucky his phone number on a slip of paper torn from his work notepad. Bucky put the number in his pocket, smiling sheepishly at Steve.

“Sorry.”

Steve waved him off. “It’s fine. It’s not like _we’re_ dating,” he said, attacking his new burger with gusto. It was just as good as before, dripping with grease, cheese and ketchup just the way he liked it. He could eat ten more of these, but he didn’t think it would fill the funny empty feeling in his gut.

Bucky gave Steve an oh-so-casual-way look, the one he liked to use when he was unimpressed with something Steve had said.

Steve sighed again, putting his burger down. “What is it now?”

“Steve… have you ever thought that you could have asked _him_ out?” Bucky said delicately, as if he was quite sure what Steve would say in response.

Steve stared at him in disbelief. “Of course I have – I’ve thought about a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean I’ve done them all.” He reached for his burger again and then stopped. “I guess I just… I wanted to feel like I mattered enough for him to… I don’t know.”

“You wanted him to work for it?” Bucky asked softly.

“Not really work for it. It’s just – I don’t like being hit on because of my body – because of the serum. It’s… sometimes it feels like that’s all anyone sees these days.” Steve scowled, picking up the burger again, furious with himself as he took another bite.

“That’s rough,” Bucky said. He nibbled on his fresh fries, turning to look at the window. “So what are you going to tell him then? Are you going to tell him the truth, or are you going to let him hang?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said. And he _didn’t_ know, either; that was the problem. He couldn’t even _begin_ to guess at all the things going on in Tony’s head half the time. Although to be fair he could barely listen to what was going on in his _own_ head most days.

The only thing he did know was that he could probably sit in this diner for the rest of his life and he still wouldn’t be able to figure out how to word what he wanted to say to Tony; it would never sound right outside of his own head. He stared down at the pieces of pie sitting nearby, glaring at them with all of his might.

Why did it always end up like this? Why did he always fall for the ones who didn’t care about him one way or another?

It wasn’t like he didn’t have options. People asked him out left right and centre these days. He had phone numbers in his pocket just like Bucky did; hell, he could have collected SHIELD agents like penny candy if he had wanted to, and all of them would have been more than fine with a little conversation and then a romp in the sack.

Maybe that was what he needed. Maybe he didn’t need a relationship after all.

 

“Is this seat taken?” Tony said, dropping into the booth beside Steve. He slid so close he was pressed right up against Steve’s thighs, his tail sneaking out from under his jacket to rub circles on the small of Steve’s back. “Good god,” Tony said, staring aghast at the leftovers on the table. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“What time is it?” Bucky asked, shovelling another fry into his mouth.

Tony peered at his Rolex – no doubt another gift from Howard. “It’s six o’clock.”

“Then we’ve been here six hours,” Bucky said with a grunt.

“Well, are you done yet? Did you decide?” Tony stole the rest of Steve’s burger, making pleased sounds when he realized that it was a bacon cheeseburger instead of a plain old hamburger. He began to swipe Steve’s fries, his nimble fingers moving back and forth across the table in a near blur as he shoveled food into his mouth.

“I missed lunch – Oh, can we get some coffee before we go home? And some snacks? There’s supposed to be some movie channels on the television at home. There’s some kind of marathon going on. I’m assuming that means they’re playing movies continuously and not forcing people to run around in one of your sporting events,” Tony mumbled, stealing away Steve’s napkin to daub at his lips. “Your English language is irritatingly diverse. So many double meanings for every damned word – it’s hard to keep track of everything.”

“Yeah, it does that sometimes,” Bucky shrugged, flicking a fry at Steve who caught it without thinking.

“So?” Tony turned to Steve, his tail trying to sneak its way up underneath Steve’s shirt. He grabbed it before it could try to feel Steve up, glaring at it when it tried to break free of his grip in an ill-advised dive for the front of Steve’s pants.

Steve stared blearily at the cheeseburger wrapper clutched in his hand, wishing that it still had a cheeseburger in it. Part of him wanted to launch directly onto the nearest plate of pie, to devour it and push away the nagging feeling in his stomach that was telling him that he was doing something wrong by saying what was on his mind. He swallowed hard, folding the wrapper up to calm himself.

“I’m not sure yet Tony,” he said, ignoring the way the pie started to look all that much more appetizing, “I still need some time to think about it – maybe I’ll have a decision for you tomorrow.”

“Alright, well can we go now? I still want to try out that TV and we can try out the _mattress_.” Tony winked lewdly at Steve, moving on to lick ketchup and mustard off of his fingers in what seemed like slow motion. He must have practiced that move in the mirror, because otherwise there was no way in hell he could have pulled it off and managed to look so gorgeous while doing it.

Steve nearly choked to death on his own spit; he started coughing hard, his face going bright red as he struggled to catch his breath. For a split second Steve flashed back to his childhood, trapped in an alleyway coughing his lungs up as asthma tried to drag him down in to darkness. He wanted to curl up, his chest seizing as each new cough racked his body.

“Steve?” Tony smacked Steve on the back. “Steve? You ok?”

“Hey, Steve?” Bucky’s voice was like a beacon in the darkness; Steve looked up, tears streaming down his face from the stress of wheezing his air out one horrid mouthful at a time. “You’re fine Steve, you’re fine – just breath in and one. Nice and slow,” Bucky said soothingly, gesturing to the server. “Can we get some water please? My friend needs a drink.”

The server disappeared; Tony’s hand was like lava against Steve’s back, rubbing circles now instead of striking at him. Steve gradually came back to reality, the world no longer fuzzy around the edges. A glass of water was thrust into his hand and he sipped at it, relieved when the water took some of the sting away from his raw throat. He wiped his dripping nose on the back of his hand, accepting a clean napkin from Bucky; he counted to ten as his breathing slowed.

He smiled weakly at Bucky and Tony, glad to see that they were just as relieved as he was. “I’m alright,” he croaked.

Tony rubbed the back of Steve’s neck, his fingers tangling in the sweat-slick hairs. “You should be more careful,” he chided, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “You’ll choke to death if you keep that up.”

“Well if someone hadn’t been talking about testing mattresses out,” Steve sputtered, pulling away, his face taking on the dreaded pink of embarrassment again; it was nowhere near as bad as going bright red, but it was still exasperating. He looked over to Bucky, wishing that his friend would say something and was surprised to see that Bucky didn’t look the least bit sympathetic.

“Back me up here!” Steve grumbled.

Bucky shrugged. “It wasn’t like he said he was going to blow you or something.”

Steve closed his eyes, breathing in and out through his nose. He counted to ten, opened his eyes and then closed them and started counting to ten again, praying that the next time he opened his eyes he might have the calm he was looking for.

“So, can you get the bill? I want to go,” Tony sighed, checking his watch again. “We’re going to miss the first movie if we don’t hurry it up.”

“I’d rather not spend the night in the tower Tony,” Steve said quietly.

“What?” Tony frowned. “You don’t want to spend the night? Why not? You can make a better decision if you’re in the place – then you can see how much better it is. You hate your apartment, don’t you?”

Steve fidgeted in his seat; it was true of course. He did hate his apartment, but in a way it was the only home he had now, and he wouldn’t give that up for anything. “I don’t hate it, but I don’t exactly like it either.”

“So spend the night. It’s _one_ night Steve – we can fuck, and then you can make your decision. It’s not that hard to do,” Tony said, waving for the server to bring them their check.

Steve picked up the closest piece of pie, stabbing into it with a fork. “I’m really not in the mood for that kind of thing,” he said, staring intently at the forkful of pie. “I want to make the decision where I feel comfortable.”

“And what? You think being in a luxury apartment is _uncomfortable_?” Tony raised an eyebrow in disbelief. He waited patiently while Steve fished his debit card out of his pocket and handed it over to the server who swiped it and handed it and the debit machine to Steve.

“It’s one night,” Tony said. “It’s not like I’m trying to do something awful to you. You’ll have fun – I swear. I’m very good at what I do.” He smirked at Steve, twirling the ketchup cup around with his finger.

Steve scowled, typing in his pin with controlled precision. He had to stop himself from pressing too hard, ready to crush the machine in his hands; he couldn’t explain the anger, but he certainly knew it was there. “I don’t want to be pressured into anything Tony. This is my life we’re talking about here,” Steve said, handing the debit machine back with a terse smile to the server; he had given the guy a hundred dollar tip for having to put up with them for six hours.

The man gave Steve a bright smile. “Thanks a bunch. I hope you guys have a great night!”

“You too,” Steve said, knowing that his night was likely going to be as far away from great as possible. “You too.”

Tony stood up, slamming his hands down on the table. The room fell into silence, a handful of strangers turning around in their chairs to see what the commotion was about; Steve gritted his teeth.

“Fine. Head off to your apartment and spend the night alone. It’s no skin off my nose. I’ll see you in the morning,” Tony growled. “You know where you can find me when you come to your senses.”

Steve watched him go; he picked up the plate of pie again and started eating, aware that everyone was watching him. The only thing that kept him from finishing the slice was Bucky, who reached across the table and pried it out of his hands.

 

 

Steve sat on the couch staring at the TV; there was nothing much on, just the same garbage as normal with characters nattering on about their ruined love lives. He was only sitting in the living room because it felt like he was doing something out here.

It was better than crawling into bed alone again. He had tried that shortly after coming home, and no matter how many times he had tossed and turned, he hadn’t felt comfortable. It was all Tony’s fault; he couldn’t sleep without the Incubus wrapped around him. He let out a loud groan, flipping channels to a cooking show. That didn’t do anything other than make him hungry, so he shut it off, trying to fall asleep in the darkened living room.

Bucky had gone to bed hours ago. He had gotten the pie packed up in the restaurant and helped Steve carry it home, stuffing it into the fridge only after making Steve promise that he would leave it be until morning. He had offered to keep Steve company for a few more hours, to help Steve work on his list of pros and cons, but Steve had turned him down flat. At least one of them should get some sleep, Steve had reasoned and Bucky hadn’t needed any more nudging to get him to wander off to bed.

Steve shifted his weight, rolling over onto his side, facing the back of the couch. It was a really ugly couch, he realized, hideous even. Why they had bought it was beyond him. He traced along the seams, feeling the stitches.

He knew what he wanted to do tomorrow morning. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to be around Tony all the time; he would have cut off his own hand if need be, even if it was only to be in Tony’s shadow. But that was just it. He had built this place – built his life without Tony and he was proud of what he had achieved. So what if the place had paper thin walls. So what if the bathrooms were too small! It was his – his hole in the wall, piece of crap apartment and he didn’t like the idea of it being taken away again, even if it was just to replace it with something better.

Bucky had said that he didn’t care one way or another; he had been fairly candid about his feelings, saying that he would leave things up to Steve. They could keep the apartment of course. It didn’t matter to him. They didn’t have to sell it or rent it out.

Steve closed his eyes, shivering as a cool breeze went past his backside. It had never been warm here, but without a blanket it was almost frigid even with the heat turned on. The couch dipped lower; he felt Tony’s hands on his back. His fingers caressed their way down Steve’s spine, making Steve shiver in pleasure.

“Are you going to lay here all night baby?” Tony asked, his knee bumping against the edge of the couch cushions.

“I don’t know,” Steve murmured, closing his eyes. “I thought you were going back to your apartment.”

Tony dropped down to lie against Steve, pressing his back against Steve’s. “I ran out of movies to watch,” he whispered. He flipped over, wrapping an arm around Steve’s middle, burrowing against Steve’s back. “Don’t roll over, alright?”

“Alright,” Steve mumbled.

 

 

 

“So when are you moving in?” Tony’s voice was directly in Steve’s ear, his breath hot against the back of Steve’s neck.

Steve shivered, sliding closer against the back of the couch. “It’s too early,” he groused, squeezing his eyes shut. “Go back to sleep.”

“It’s ten a.m.,” Bucky snorted from somewhere in the room. A click of fork against plate had Steve sitting up; he turned around and saw that as he suspected, Bucky was eating his pie. The rat _bastard_!

Tony stood up and stretched out, cracking his wrists and neck. He leaned against Steve’s shoulder, his fingers kneading at the tense muscles he found there. “So?”

“So what?” Steve grunted, rubbing his eyes. It didn’t feel like he had gotten any sleep the previous night although he was pretty sure he had been asleep; after all, one didn’t normally chase around pink and purple zebras with a butterfly net unless they were, in fact, asleep.

Tony jabbed Steve in the shoulder hitting bone. He winced. “So when are you moving in? You said you’d have an answer for me today, and today is now _today_.”

“Jeeze, give a guy more than a few seconds after waking up, will you?” Steve stood up, stalking away to go forage for a box of cereal that wasn’t completely empty. He poured the contents of three separate boxes into the bowl Bucky had once referred to as his ‘Trough’. He splashed in a generous helping of milk and stirred everything together, trying not to give Bucky the evil eye for eating his pie; it was probably for the best anyway. It hadn’t been the greatest pie.

Tony followed him to the table, dragging his chair over until he was practically in Steve’s lap. He watched Steve eat, looking increasingly frustrated, his knuckles rapping on the table. “Are you done yet?”

“I’m eating,” Steve growled, slurping his milk. “We’ll talk when I’m done eating.”

“You’re never done eating!” Tony snapped, his tail hitting the table with a loud bang.

Steve scowled at him over the bowl. “I have a huge metabolism. I have to eat a lot.”

Tony snorted, shaking his head. “Oh horse shit – you’re just trying to avoid giving me an answer. Are you moving in or _not_? I don’t have time to be jerked around like this Steve, I really don’t.” He stood up, pushing the chair back and began to pace, his bare feet slapping harshly against the linoleum.

“I don’t understand what your problem is here. I’m offering you a place to live – a better place, with all the food, and technology you could ever want. You won’t even have to work for Fury anymore if you don’t want to – I can provide for everything.” He paused; Bucky nimbly hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter to keep from being run over. “Correct me if I’m saying something you don’t like here Steve, because I’m pretty much offering you a _very_ sweet deal. I don’t know why you’re being so picky about this.”

Steve slammed his bowl down onto the table; it split down the middle, cracking in half. He stared at it, furious that he had let himself be so angry. He had had that bowl for years – ever since he had woken up. It had been _his_ – he had gone to the store, and picked it up off the shelf himself with his first paycheque from SHIELD. It had been his, and now it was broken and he had done it all by himself.

“Don’t you even care?” Tony shouted, slapping his hands against the table. “Don’t you want to be with me, and get married? We’ve been dating for weeks now – isn’t that enough for you?”

“Dating requires both people knowing that they are dating! We were not dating Tony!” Steve snapped.

“I’ve been sleeping in your bed for weeks – we eat together, we sleep together. You’ve bought me food and clothing – you let me touch you, and you touch me! How are we not dating? I’ve read all of the human literature on the subject! We’ve been dating!” Tony yelled. He stared at Steve with wild eyes, his hands clawing against the table. He looked half mad, his hair tousled from sleep, his clothing half buttoned and wrinkled.

“We haven’t been dating Tony. Dating means that you take me out for dinner – or I take you out. We get to know each other. We find out if we like the same things, if we like the same people – if we can put up with the good and the bad! You can’t just walk into someone’s life and assume that you’re going to marry them ten seconds into it!” Steve yelled back.

He wanted to take the words back. He opened his mouth, seeing the hurt on Tony’s face, but then the hurt was gone and something vicious was in its place.

Tony’s lips curled into a sneer. He straightened up, shoving his chair back in place so hard it clattered against the table. “Oh, I get it. You’ve been dating someone else. Obviously, I’ve been imagining things,” Tony spat. He looked over his shoulder at Bucky, his tail wrapping around his waist so tightly it looked like it had to have hurt. “You’ll live with _him_ , and you’ll share _his_ food. You’ll share _his_ memories and ask _him_ questions, but I’m just – _what_? I’m some kind of task – some burden you’ve been sent to watch over. Is that it?”

“You know that’s not it,” Steve whispered, hanging his head. “Tony, you’re my friend.”

“Am I?” Tony snorted, tossing his head. “Obviously, I’m too stupid to see it then.”

“You’re not stupid – I never said that!” Steve protested. “I don’t understand what you want from me, alright? I don’t understand why you’re here! You want me to pick up my life and move into a house where everything’s strange and new and I can’t do that Tony, I can’t. I have memories here – I have things here that are my own and I can’t just cut all ties and run off with you.”

“I didn’t say you had to cut ties! I said you could bring Bucky with you if that was what you wanted!” Tony shot back. He gestured at Steve with a finger, his entire body shaking with rage. “Is that it? He’s what you wanted all along? You want some fucking _oaf_ like him?”

“Hey!” Bucky said, sounding hurt. “I’m not an oaf.”

“Shut up!” Tony roared. He didn’t even bother looking at Bucky, his gaze locked on Steve’s. “You’ve got a choice here Steve: Me or him. You either come with me right now and we go to our new home or you can stay here all by yourself waiting for god knows what, with all your precious memories and plates!”

“Alright,” Steve said quietly. He started picking up the broken bowl, gathering the shattered pieces up in his hand one by one. “Alright Tony. If that’s what you want from me, fine. I guess I’ll stay here with my _plates_.”

Tony’s shoulders sagged. “I didn’t – I just – _Steve_ …” He picked up a piece of broken bowl, setting it by Steve’s pile, fingers skittering across the tabletop. “I want _you_. You’re my _Steve_ ,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

“If I’m your Steve, tell me _one_ thing about me,” Steve said, sweeping the pieces into his shirt. He carried them to the garbage can, mourning the loss of the bowl, mourning _every_ loss he had ever had in his life as the shards vanished into the darkened bin.

Tony floundered, his mouth opening and closing, no words making it out.

Steve sighed. “Nothing? You can’t think of _anything_?” Somehow he wasn’t surprised. He had seen this wreck of a conversation off in the distance for a while now; he just hadn’t thought it could hurt so much to discuss a relationship that hadn’t even really _existed_.

It all came down to the same thing. People _always_ wanted something from him no matter who they were, and it was always that one _something_ that he wasn’t ready to give. They never seemed to be willing to wait; it was always now, now, now. _He_ had been willing to wait, to give Tony the chance to work things out for himself, but it was clear that Tony didn’t care. All Tony wanted was a lie – the big, handsome lie that was the Super Soldier body the serum had given him.

Tony wanted a warm body and a quick fuck – someone to keep locked up in an apartment where no one could get at them. He didn’t know anything about Steve’s life; he hadn’t even bothered to try and learn. There had been no questions, no meaningful kisses and definitely no love no matter how much Steve had wanted there to be.

“If we _had_ been dating, Tony, which we _weren’t_ , this would be when we break up,” Steve said with a sigh.

“Steve,” Tony whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost inaudible, “what are you saying?” He grasped the chair he was standing by as if it was the only thing holding him up, his eyes wide and watery.

“I think it would be better if we saw other people,” Steve said finally, clearing his throat; his eyes burned with tears unshed, his mouth going dry like he had swallowed a mouthful of cotton.

It was stupid really.

Tony probably didn’t even know what seeing other people meant.

“I’m willing to stay your friend, if you need me, but I can’t be your _toy_ Tony. I don’t want to be anyone’s toy, and I don’t want you to be mine either.”

“Fine,” Tony said, releasing the chair from his white knuckled grasp. He walked towards the door picking his jacket up off the door he had hung it on night before, a strangely blank expression on his face. “So this is it then? You’re going to go off and date someone else?” His lips twitched at the corners. “That’s what you really want? Someone else?”

No, Steve wanted to say. He leaned against the sink, praying that Tony couldn’t see how close he was to breaking down. He didn’t want Tony gone. He wanted to start over – to do things right from the beginning. He wanted to teach Tony about the world, and to ask him a thousand questions about himself – to have Tony ask _him_ a thousand more pointless questions. He wanted to tell Tony about Peggy, and the tin filled with dead soldier’s dog tags. He wanted to get that first kiss – a hug that meant Tony loved him, and not that Tony was just feeling friendly. If Tony wanted him, he could have him – but all he wanted, all he needed to do was to ask to start over.

“Fine,” Tony said, yanking the door open, turning his back to Steve. “Don’t bother calling me or visiting. Have a nice life Steve.”

And then he was gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry - they have a chapter to work things out still : )


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things had never been easy for Steve, but he found it was a lot easier to get things done when he thought about them first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for sexy-time! If the idea of a demonic tail and sex-fun-time combined bothers you, you might want to skip those parts : )

Steve carried on with life after Tony left. Some days it still surprised him just how easy it was to trick himself into forgetting that the bed was always cold in the morning without Tony laying there beside him.

He went to work every day of the week, barely stopping to power down when he finished a job.

Sometimes he would find himself lingering restlessly outside Stark International after dragging himself home after a mission, only to walk away without getting up the nerve to go inside; Natasha gave him dark looks when she ran into him in HQ afterwards, but she never said anything about his spur-of-the-moment trips.

He knew she was angry with him; she wasn’t the only one angry either. He was furious with _himself_ for what he had done, but he just couldn’t seem to figure out what to do even with Bucky whispering suggestions in his ear.

He tried phoning Tony a few times, desperate to hear his voice. He was always sent to voice mail and it was never satisfying. Tony hadn’t bothered to record his voice, so instead of hearing Tony’s dulcet tones when he called, Steve was greeted by an emotionless robot who asked him to leave a message after the beep.

It made him want to throw his phone out the window.

It was hard leaving messages when he knew Tony wouldn’t listen to them. They were pointless fragments of dead code and empty bytes left behind for the computer to play with, but he sent them nonetheless, leaving a soft ‘I miss you,’ at the end of every one.

Three months passed like a death march.

He was lonely, oh so lonely without Tony around; he asked Sharon Carter out on a date one night and she agreed even though he had kept postponing their coffee dates in the past. She had been real nice about it too. She had listened to Steve ramble on about his life and the Avengers with a smile on her face all throughout dinner. They had shared dessert and afterwards he had walked her home.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Sharon said with a coy smile, leaning back against her front door. She was beautiful in the moonlight, just like Peggy had been all those years ago and he was pretty sure that he could love her given time.

He debated on saying yes, toyed with the notion of waking up with her the next morning. It felt wrong to even think about crawling into her bed; so many layers of wrong weaved together, a whole quilt of wrong. He had gotten that first date he had been craving, but it wasn’t what he had wanted. She wasn’t Tony; she would never be Tony.

She smiled at him, drawing him in for a kiss and for a few seconds, he was blissfully unaware of the aching hole in his chest where Tony Stark had once been. “Come in for coffee,” she said, pressing another kiss to his lips, her red lipstick still perfect, like one of those magazine cover gals. “I’m not looking for a relationship here Steve – I don’t need commitment. All I’m asking is that you come to bed with me for a night. We can think about what comes next later – just… come to bed, baby.”

Steve swallowed hard, pulling back. He could hear Tony’s words in her voice; but it was all wrong. It was all talk, no heart. Tony had been soft around the edges, his hands rough but gentle even when he had been irritated. Sharon’s fingers in his hair were rough and painful, like she was trying to tug him into her house; it was too different. She wasn’t Tony; she would _never_ be Tony. “I can’t,” he said gruffly, being gentle as possible as he pried himself free from her grasp. “There’s someone I really love, and this… this feels wrong.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is it Tony? The guy you were talking about tonight?”

“Yes,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet. “I’m sorry. I guess I kind of wasted your evening.”

She patted his cheek, dragging her thumb along his cheekbones. “You don’t have to be ashamed of it you know. I’m not going to chew you out for being in love. Besides, I had fun.” She took his hand still trapped in hers and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, something Tony had done a thousand times over and Steve felt his insides freeze up; he stiffened, swallowing down the waves of grief he had been battling for the past month.

“Why don’t you talk to him?” Sharon asked softly.

“He won’t talk to me,” Steve said, trying to force himself to relax in her grasp. It wasn’t her fault he felt like this; it was no one’s fault but his own. “I’ve tried to leave him messages, and he never calls back. He said he never would. I guess he’s just keeping his word.”

“Have you tried dropping by his place? Talking with him about it in person? I mean, you seem to be a really sweet guy Steve – he’ll probably take you back if you apologize,” Sharon said.

“I don’t think he’ll let me in,” Steve sighed, scratching his head. “I think he’s had enough of me. I guess I’m afraid to push.”

“Have you even tried?” she asked, rolling her eyes at him when she saw him shake his head. “Then,” she said, taking his face in her hands; they were small hands, nothing like Tony’s but at the same time they felt strong. “Go talk with him in the morning. If you really love the guy, talk with him. He’s an Incubus, right?”

Steve nodded again, ashamed that he had never been able to will up the courage to go talk to Tony face to face.

“Maybe he just doesn’t understand what love is? Have you ever thought of that?” She gave his cheeks a squeeze. “I mean, where he’s from they don’t exactly _have_ love, right? They just have sex. They don’t do the whole marriage shtick.”

“I… yeah. I guess that’s right,” Steve agreed.

“Then explain it to him if he doesn’t understand. Take him by the hand and tell him that you love him and that you’ll do whatever it takes to win him back,” Sharon chuckled. “If he doesn’t understand and he tells you to fuck off, then that’s his loss. You might get lucky, and either way you’ll know the truth.”

“What if,” Steve said, taking in a sharp breath through his nose, “what if he’s moved on already? It’s been three months, Sharon. What if he doesn’t want me? What if he _never_ wanted me?”

“You’re not going to know unless you ask! Get off your lazy super soldier ass and go find out for yourself!” She squeezed his cheeks again, laughing when he smiled shyly at her. “You have my number. If you need to talk, or you decide to come in for _coffee_ sometime, I’m here for you.” She unlocked her front door, shooing him away with a wave of her hand. “Now go home you big lug. Get some sleep – plan what you want to say to your guy – and well, if it doesn’t work you took the shot. That’s life. You do with it what you can.”

Steve smiled, stepping backwards down the steps as she waved goodbye. “Thanks Sharon,” he called out, pushing through the white picket fence; she really was Peggy’s niece after all. Peggy always had been good at getting to the heart of problems without all the bullshit. He would miss Peggy no matter what happened in his life, no matter who he tried to date; but she was gone. Tony on the other hand was not. Tony was still here. He could make things right with Tony; they could talk, and if that didn’t set things right, well, then Sharon was right. That was life.

“Good luck Steve!” She blew him a kiss from her doorway, laughing.

He rounded the corner and started for home with a spring in his step.

 

 

Steve arrived at Stark International just before six a.m. ready and raring to go. He spent the next thirty minutes thinking hard about what he was going to do, his brain finally having caught up with the rest of him. While he knew what he wanted to say, and he had gone over it at length the night before as he was falling asleep, he wasn’t sure he had it all worded out right.

He looked down at the crumpled piece of paper clutched in his hand, reviewing the list he had made with nervous anticipation. This list was one of the best pieces of writing Steve had done in his life; the page was filled with all the things he wanted to make sure Tony knew, most of it so embarrassing he had been afraid to put it down on paper in case he dropped it and lost it somewhere.

It was silly that he needed notes for something as simple as this; he had been memorizing battle tactics, statistics and maps for years, but somehow he couldn’t seem to say it all without something to hold in his hands.

He stared down the main doors, swallowing hard and tucked the list into his pocket. Three seconds later he turned around and dashed back to the road.

Nope.

Definitely not ready yet.

He sat down on the edge of a granite planter, resting his elbows on his knees. How the hell had he thought this was simple? This wasn’t simple – stopping bad guys was _simple_ , destroying Hydra’s weaponry was _simple_. He didn’t know what _this_ was, but it was so far away from simple it would have been lucky to see simple in the newspaper.

“Are you Steve Rogers?” A voice asked.

Steve looked up, startled. A formidable looking redhead met his gaze head on; she was dressed in a navy pencil skirt and white blouse with her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her matching navy jacket looked a little like it ate wrinkles, chewed them up and spat them back out. She smiled at him, but it wasn’t a friendly one; it was one he had seen Agents use on suspects they were busy interrogating under bright lights.

“Yes, I’m Steve,” he said as he stood up, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans before offering her his hand. She took it with that same not-quite-pleasant smile still on her face, giving him a brief but firm handshake.

“I’m Pepper Potts – Mr. Stark’s assistant.”

“Howard’s assistant?” Steve asked, letting his hand drop. He hadn’t expected to see Howard this early in the morning, even if the man did tend to wake up at the crack of dawn; there was an unspoken rule that Howard Stark didn’t work until he was good and ready, and most of the time he wasn’t either of those things until well after noon and several shots of brandy.

Pepper’s smile thinned considerably. “No Mr. Rogers. I’m _Tony_ Stark’s assistant.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “I forgot he had one.”

Pepper nodded, watching him so carefully Steve was pretty sure she was busy reading his mind. “I’m sure you did,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Can I ask what you’re doing here?”

“I came to talk to Tony,” Steve said, clearing his throat. “I wanted to clear some things up with him.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow, tapping her foot. “And just what did you want to clear up? You broke up with him. He was pretty clear about that. In fact, he specifically requested that I be on the lookout for you so you couldn’t harass him.”

“Harass him? Why would I _harass_ him?” Steve asked in horror. “I wouldn’t do that!”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t dream of it Mr. Rogers, but Tony has requested that you not be allowed in the building, and frankly I’m just following orders. You’re not coming in,” she said. “I’ll call security if I have to, but I really don’t want to do that. I suggest that you vacate the premises of your own free will. It would probably look bad if Captain America got hauled away in handcuffs.”

“But I – But Tony likes me! I would never do anything to hurt him!” Steve protested, taking a step forwards; one look from Pepper sent him two steps back, feeling oddly chastened. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I care about Tony,” Steve said in exasperation. “I would never do anything to intentionally hurt him.”

“Mr. Rogers,” Pepper said, getting right up in Steve’s face with absolutely no concern for her own safety; her nostrils flared as she spoke. Her eyes were so filled with fury it was hard to not flinch away from her gaze. “I get that you think Tony should have you in his life, but you haven’t been around him for the past three months. He barely eats or sleeps, and when he does, he does so only in the presence of his inventions. He doesn’t leave his workshop unless he’s physically threatened with being dragged out of it – and you know what? _You’re_ the reason that happened. Now I don’t know you very well, but I think what you did was _reprehensible_. You need to grow up and get over yourself. You do not own Tony Stark – you do not get to blow a hole in his world and then come waltzing back in whenever you feel like it.”

She rose up on her tip toes, staring Steve right in the eye. “And if I catch you back here Mr. Rogers, I will not hesitate to punch you out myself. Do I make myself clear?”

“But I – I’m not – I…” Steve stuttered, taking another step backwards. He had to jump back up onto the curb, nearly stumbling into traffic. “Yes ma’am,” he said, his heart hammering in his chest as car after car honked at him; he pulled his hands out of his pockets, turned and stumbled off down the street like a chastised child, knowing that Pepper Potts was watching his every move. He had never felt so small before in his life, even when he had been without the serum.

 

Steve stood in the line at Dave’s Coffee shop for a full ten minutes, gnawing on his lower lip as he tried to figure out just what had gone wrong. He had met trench commanders who were less threatening than Pepper Potts; part of him was glad that Tony had someone like her looking out for him, even if she had basically called him a crumb to his face. To be fair though, at this point he was fairly certain that he deserved whatever he got.

He took out his wallet and pulled out the crumpled twenty he had been saving; it had been the first bill he had ever taken out from a bank machine, and for some reason he had never been able to spend it, stashing it away as if it were some kind of magical totem. He dropped the bill on the counter, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Can I have a triple shot chocolate mocha with extra whipped cream please,” he said to the barista. Bucky would have given him shit if he had found out about the mocha, but it was either drown himself in sweet chocolate or go destroy a few punching bags, and he really didn’t feel like trekking all the way back to SHIELD to take out his frustrations.

“What size would you like sir?” The Barista said, reaching for the stack of cups beside her.

Steve stared down at the twenty sitting wrinkled and pathetic on the counter. “The biggest you have please,” he said. He took his pitiful excuse for change back when his order had been rung in and stood against the wall waiting for his drink. Great, he thought as he juggled his change, things just seemed to get worse and worse. He hung his head. The list had been _good_ too – he had been so sure that Tony would understand what he had been thinking if he read it out to him. He reached into his pocket to pull it out, wanting to crumple it up and throw it in the garbage where it belonged.

He frowned, searching every pocket he had.

The list was gone.

He froze. It wasn’t like it was the end of the world, he reminded himself, trying to stay calm. He must have dropped it somewhere – that was all. It wasn’t as if it had his name on it after all; no one would know what it meant. He looked around the shop trying to appear casual, nervous sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

Nope.

Nothing, there wasn’t a single piece of paper on the ground.

He thanked the barista and grabbed his drink, slipping out the door as fast as he could without spilling it all over himself.

There was nothing on the road.

He scanned his surroundings as he walked, peering around planters and garbage cans in a kind of frenzy, needing to find that damned piece of paper. He paused at the crosswalk, peering ahead to see if he could spot anything on the road or in the gutters; no luck, the streets were clean except for the normal leafy refuse that clogged the rain gutters.

He mentally listed everywhere he had been, squinting at street names as he walked; it had been in his pocket at Stark International, and then he had walked three blocks to the left and four to the right. It should be here somewhere – it wasn’t like he had dropped it at – _oh_.

He found himself back in front of Stark International; Pepper Potts was standing right where he had left her reading over a piece of very familiar paper. She looked up when she heard him approaching still skimming the list Steve had been searching so frantically for as if it was a business report she was proof reading.

“I uh…” Steve stuttered, unsure how to politely put the words ‘Give it!’ into a sentence that wouldn’t end up with him being slapped in the face.

Pepper folded the paper up into its original square, tapping it against her palm. “So,” she said, staring Steve down. “I take it this little _gem_ is yours?”

Steve opened and closed his mouth; not a sound would come out. Frankly, he was grateful that nothing had, because he was pretty sure that at this point all that would have come out was inhuman squealing.

She smiled at him. It felt like the sun had come out, melting the cold from his bones. She took his mocha, pressing the note into his hand and took a tentative sip; her eyes widened in shock when she got a good taste of what she had traded for. “Good god – are you trying to rot all your teeth?” she coughed, waving her hand in front of her face. She didn’t bother returning the drink though. She sipped at it again as he toyed with his reclaimed note, licking mocha off the lid. “Don’t think the mocha bought me off –You’re _still_ an idiot for what you did by the way, but you’re starting to seen like more of a decent human being to _me_ if that helps,” she said with a chuckle, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

“I know,” Steve confessed, stuffing the note into his pocket so that he couldn’t lose it again.

“So you wrote that note, huh,” Pepper whistled. “May I ask why?”

“I wrote it because I wanted him to hear all the stuff I couldn’t say. I feel so stupid for not being able to get any of it out,” Steve sighed.

Pepper took Steve by the elbow and walked him over to the nearest bench. She sat down, patting the space beside her. “Sit,” she ordered, and he did, clasping his hands in his lap for lack of anywhere better to put them. She cradled the massive mocha against her chest, licking chocolate off her lips. “Alright, I think we need to try this again from the beginning,” she said, smiling at him again with that warm-as-the-sun smile. “So, what did you do?”

“Did he tell you why we broke up?” Steve asked, forcing himself to look her in the eye.

Pepper spun the coffee sleeve around in a circle, thumbing thoughtfully at the cardboard edges. “He told me that you said some very mean things to him,” she said, “but he was very vague about it all. I sort of assumed that you’d told him to go to hell or something.”

“I guess I kind of did,” Steve sighed. He hadn’t meant the fight to go the way it had, and he had been just as responsible for the outcome as Tony had been. He would bear that burden till the day he died if Tony told him to push off forever, but until then he would do his best to believe that anything was possible with a little hard work; if Tony wanted him gone though, he would go.

Pepper cocked her head to the side, but didn’t look angered by the admission; she seemed more curious than anything. “So what actually happened?”

“I met him when I went into his world. The Succubus and Incubus citizens were involved in a civil war, fighting over who should rule and who should be exiled. As a result, the losers were being thrown through a portal when they were caught, basically being sent off to their deaths. It was brutal,” Steve said, shaking his head. “By the time SHIELD got wind of what was going on most of the refugees had frozen or bled to death. Some of them survived, but they didn’t seem too happy about it. I’m probably not supposed to say anything about this, but I think you need to hear it to understand the whole story.”

Pepper paled, sipping at the mocha again. She offered it to Steve, who waved it away. “So the Avengers were called in,” she said, resting the cup on her knee. “And you found Tony out in the _snow_?”

“No, he wasn’t in the snow. Thank god for that. I decided to go through the portal to try and figure out what was going on,” Steve said. “It was probably one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. No one else could get through after me and I couldn’t get back out. I ended up having to talk with the ruling faction to arrange a deal to get everything set right. I ran into Tony on my way to talk with his mother, the former Queen.”

Pepper whistled. “You went all the way into another world and he what, he followed you out?”

“I guess you could say that,” Steve said wistfully. He cracked a smiled. He hadn’t thought of it that way before. “He asked me a thousand questions when we first met – wanted to know all about Earth and the technology we had access to. Of course, that wasn’t the only thing he wanted out of me.” Steve chuckled.

Pepper patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t feel too embarrassed. Believe me, I’ve been around him long enough to have seen worse by now,” she said with a crooked smile.

Steve smiled back. “He grabbed me and kissed me. Well, to be fair, that wasn’t the first thing that happened. I ended up punching him in the face first because I thought he was trying to use his powers on me,” he said, looking sheepish. That first meeting still haunted his dreams; he would have taken that punch back in a heartbeat if he could.

Pepper raised an eyebrow. “And was he?”

“I think he was – but I don’t think he _meant_ to do it on purpose. Whatever he used though, I was immune to it anyway, so it didn’t really matter. I guess we both kind of helped each other get what we wanted,” Steve shrugged. “I liked him the first time I saw him, but well, I’m not exactly the most experienced guy when it comes to romance.”

“Honey, I don’t think anyone can be an expert when it comes to romance. We all end up messing things up sometimes,” Pepper murmured. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think Tony’s any better off than you are. If I didn’t know he wasn’t human, I’d think there was something very wrong with him some days.”

“He’s not that bad,” Steve protested.

Pepper patted him on the shoulder again, clearly not agreeing. “Steve,” she said, “he doesn’t have any idea what he’s supposed to do half the time when he’s around other people. His father tried to take him to one of his charity galas and Tony looked like he was going to have a charisma overload when people started moving towards him. He’s a good schmoozer, and he sure knows how charm the pants off of people, but leave him alone for a few minutes and he’s liable to put his foot in his mouth.”

“He can be blunt,” Steve agreed.

“Blunt is putting it _mildly_ , but with a brain like his people usually tend to make exceptions,” Pepper said with a shrug. “So he followed you through the portal huh?”

“Yeah. I woke up and he was in my room, half frozen and dripping wet. I guess he didn’t realize how cold it would be in our world,” Steve said. “Of course I warned him about it, but I don’t think he was listening.”

“He was naked, wasn’t he,” Pepper grumbled, taking a large gulp of mocha.

“He was naked a lot of the time,” Steve said, sighing wearily. “I had to take him out and buy him clothing, or else he would have been wandering around buck-naked all the time and honestly, it was a little distracting.”

“Just a little?” Pepper snorted.

“Alright, alright. It was _really_ distracting. He even crawled into the shower with me once,” Steve said. It hadn’t really been all that bad; he wouldn’t have minded if Tony had showed up in his shower again, but he never had.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” Pepper laughed. “He likes to work naked in the lab sometimes. It’s beginning to become a problem.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Sadly, no. That’s how I met him the first day I started working for him. Let’s just say I was tempted to file more than one sexual harassment claim by the end of the day,” Pepper muttered.

“Oh Tony,” Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, it wasn’t Tony’s fault.” Pepper smiled brightly. “It was Howard actually. He grabbed my ass three times. Tony punched him in the face for me. Tony’s very sweet when he wants to be.”

Tony had punched Howard in the face? Steve couldn’t help the grin that broke out across his face. He wished that he could have been there to see Howard’s expression when it had happened. It would have been priceless.

“I filed a complaint with HR afterwards. Howard hasn’t come within ten feet of me since,” Pepper said. “But get to the good part – what exactly happened in this fight of yours? I’m assuming there was some kind of buildup.”

“He wanted me to move into his apartment with him. Offered to have my friend and roommate Bucky come with us so that we could all live together,” Steve murmured. “But I couldn’t say yes. I froze up, and I couldn’t say yes.”

“And he just left?”

“He was convinced that we were dating. We hadn’t said a word about it, and I know – he didn’t know what it really meant to date, but it felt like he had just…” Steve looked down at his hands. He had thought about this for a long time now; it shouldn’t have been so hard to say, and yet it was. “It felt like he thought I was property, like I had to say yes because he wanted me to say yes. It felt like I didn’t really have a choice anymore. He told Howard that I was his intended spouse and I didn’t know what to think.”

“I don’t blame you,” Pepper shook her head. “If someone did that to me I’m not sure what I would have done.”

“Last night, I went on a date with the niece of one of my old friends. I thought I could move on, that it was all over with, you know?” Steve shook his head. “But I couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t have been Tony, and it wouldn’t have been fair to either of us.”

“So you went home all by yourself?” Pepper asked, cocking her head to the side.

“No one else seemed right. She asked me out before I met Tony, and we kept missing each other. I guess it wasn’t meant to be from the get go,” Steve said. “She asked if I would spend the night, no strings attached.”

“And did you?”

“No,” he said. “All I could think about was Tony and how I wished that argument had never happened.”

“I take it that it wasn’t much of an argument. You told him no and he reacted badly – said something mean, right? When he gets mad, boy you’d better watch out,” Pepper said.

“We both said angry things we regretted. I wanted to tell him that we should start over from the beginning – to do it the right way around instead of just assuming everything but I couldn’t get it out,” Steve said. “And then he was gone. I guess I was afraid of what it meant – of what he meant to me.”

Pepper’s phone started beeping wildly. Her eyes widened; she grabbed for her phone, staring at the time. “Ok, don’t take this the wrong way, but we’re going to have to cut this short. Tony’s going on a trip to Afghanistan in an hour,” Pepper said, standing up. She tossed the mocha into the garbage can, grabbing Steve by the arm. “You’d better hurry up if you want to catch him – come on!”

They ran to the elevator; security didn’t seem remotely concerned by the large blond man running after Pepper, the pair of them looking more than a little crazy. They slipped into the elevator and made it up to the workshop floor in time to see Tony strutting towards them, dressed in a tailored grey suit that would have heads turning so fast people would get whiplash. He had his sunglasses on, looking every inch the dandy.

Steve fought against his throat as it threatened to close up. This was it – he had to do this now, or else –

“What’s he doing here?” Tony growled, shoving past them into the elevator. He pressed the main floor button with his tail, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he held the door long enough for them to get in with him. “You’ve got until we get to the main floor,” he said as the doors snapped shut, “to say what you want to say and then I’m gone.”

“I want to start over,” Steve said quickly. He fumbled to pull his notes out of his pocket, but the damned thing wouldn’t come free.

“That’s nice. You want to start over,” Tony snorted, looking at Pepper. “He wants to start _over_ – are you hearing this bullshit?”

“I think he’s _serious_ Tony,” Pepper said softly, moving backwards to give them some space. “Listen to him for a minute – _please_.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s _serious_. He gets turned down by his lady-friend last night and he wants to start over again _here_. I’m really impressed Steve.” Tony smirked, lowering his sunglasses so he could look Steve dead in the eye. “You’ve really become quite the player. You’d think _you_ were the Incubus.”

The elevator doors snapped open; Steve struggled out after Tony with Pepper hot on his heels. He pulled the note out of his pocket, weaving in and out of employees, trying to keep up with Tony who was shoving his way through the crowd. “Tony – please. Don’t leave – give me a chance to talk!”

“No, Steve. No. You didn’t want me _then_ , and you don’t want me _now_ ,” Tony snarled. He threw open the main doors, strutting over to a Mercedes that had just pulled up at the curb; Happy stepped out and opened the car door, ushering Tony in with a polite hello, flashing Pepper a winning smile before he seemed to notice Steve’s presence.

Tony leaned out to gesture for Pepper to get in. “Come on Pep, we’ve got a plane to catch.”

Steve did the only thing he could think of. He took the note and pressed it into Pepper’s hand as she was pulled into the car, jumping back as Happy shoved his way in between them.

“You’d better back off _buddy_ ,” Happy growled, shoving Steve in the chest.

Steve let himself be pushed back, trying to catch one last glimpse of Tony through the window as he vanished behind the tinted glass.

Happy adjusted his blazer, nodding to Steve. “Mr. Stark is leaving now. If you’ve got business with him, leave a message. And if he doesn’t want to talk to you,” Happy grunted, nodding to the car, “then you had better stay the fuck away or I’ll break your legs. Understand?” He stalked around the side of the car, giving Steve the evil eye.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Steve said, letting himself be pushed into the crowd as car pulled away from the curb. He wished he could have said something better but the only thing that came out was another miserable ‘I’m so sorry’.

 

 

 

Steve drowned himself in work. SHIELD sent him out all across the globe, bouncing him from mission to mission and he doesn’t even complain when some days he was too tired to think straight; he charged off into battle and destroyed everything in his path instead of thinking about what he had lost, taking solace in the fact that the world was just a little bit safer when he was done.

Bucky stuck close to him as much as possible, making sure to watch Steve’s back just like always.

The Avengers themselves had been set out infrequently, and while Steve liked being around them, they didn’t feel quite like family the way they once had. Maybe it was because he felt like his heart had frozen over. His mood was probably dragging them all down; he plastered a smile on his face and forced himself to spend time with them even when he would have rather curled up in a ball by himself in the ten-by-ten room they gave him at every new base he visited.

It never did really get any better; some days it got less complicated though. By the time he was dead tired and bone weary enough to be ordered home, he was ready to face the fate he had brought upon himself – a dark and empty life devoid of the light that had once been Tony.

 

Bucky punched Steve in the shoulder, jarring him out of his daze; they were crammed together in the middle row of Coulson’s SHIELD issue mini-van. The other Avengers were sprawled across their own seats, celebrating a job well done.

“You glad to be home?” Bucky asked, stretching out like a cat against the door. Steve shrugged weakly, leaning back against the seat to try and shy away from another assault against his already sore arm. He had blocked a blow with his shoulder on the last mission, and while the knife wound had healed up, the deep tissue bruise was still there.

“So, did you talk to Tony?” Natasha said. She leaned over the back of her seat, resting her chin on her clasped hands.

The entire van went silent as they waited for Steve to respond; he tried not to feel too self-conscious, but it was a damned near thing. He settled for answering while not looking directly at her, wedging himself comfortably against Bucky’s muscled shoulder when Clint started to lean across the seat towards him too. “I haven’t heard from him. I’ve been a little busy. There wasn’t really any way to get in contact with him when I was overseas, and well, by then I figured it would just be better to let him go,” Steve said, trying for nonchalance.

Natasha’s eyes widened. “You don’t know, do you?” She pursed her lips, looking from Bucky to Clint who shared in Steve’s confusion.

“What?” Bucky grunted, “Did we miss something? You’re acting like aliens invaded while we were gone.”

Steve frowned, pivoting in his seat enough to get a good look at Natasha’s face. She had never seemed overtly expressive to Steve, but at the moment she looked as if she might cry; maybe there was just something in her eye, because a split second later the look was gone, replaced with a steely gaze that would have had Steve wetting himself if he hadn’t known she wasn’t intending to disembowel him any time soon.

“You haven’t heard about how his trip to Afghanistan went?” Natasha asked. “About the assault on his convoy?” She let out a loud sigh when he stared blankly at her. “About his _kidnapping_?”

Steve went stiff as a board; he nearly brained Clint when he jerked forwards. “Kidnapping?” Steve’s voice was shrill, picking up octaves he hadn’t even known he possessed. “What do you mean kidnapping?” He gripped the seat by Natasha’s head so hard the foam spent a few seconds imprinted with the shape of his fingers; the plastic backing cracked so loudly it was almost like the sound of a gun going off.

The van jerked into SHIELD’s main parking lot as Coulson steered them safely out of traffic. Steve was practically out the door before they had even stopped.

Natasha kept pace beside him as he fumbled for his phone, desperate to find it. She grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and he stilled, the fight going right out of him.

“Steve,” Natasha said softly, leaning closer so that he could hear her better. “He was kidnapped a month ago by insurgents in Afghanistan after he and Howard went to go present the new Jericho Missile system he designed. He has been _found_ – he’s _alive_ , and he’s _fine_ , but they only got him back four days ago. Do you understand?”

Steve gave a slight nod, his eyes watering from the way her fingers were digging into his neck. Tony – oh god. Tony. “Is he alright?” he managed to choked out. His hand slipped out of his pocket with something grasped loosely in it. He recognized the feeling of his phone against his palm a moment too late. It dropped but didn’t hit the ground.

Bucky snatched Steve’s phone out of the air, resting a hand on Steve’s shoulder when it was safely in his hands; the other Avengers gathered around Steve, shielding him from view with their bodies so that the security cameras couldn’t see him.

He was glad for them. These were his people – his family. He wiped at his eyes, straightening up when Natasha let him go.

“He’s fine Steve – he’s a little banged up, but he’s fine. At least,” Natasha said slowly, looking to Coulson for conformation, “I think he’s alright. He was hazy on the details – hasn’t spoken to anyone since they pulled him out of the desert aside from the nurse on duty.”

Steve relaxed; his body feeling weightless and free. “Alright. He’s alright. I… I guess we should debrief.”

“You can call him you know,” Bucky said, waggling Steve’s phone in his face. “I bet he’s not going to hang up on you this time.”

Steve stared blearily at the phone. Would Tony want to talk to him? He had been away for so long – and Tony, well Tony had said his goodbyes that day at Stark International, hadn’t he? Steve didn’t like the thought of giving up – he never really had been able to accept failure, but this time he couldn’t seem to see things ending well if he pushed on.

“No,” he said finally, taking his phone back from Bucky. It was still warm from being in his pocket, but there was nothing comforting about the feel of it in his hand; once he might have pressed speed dial, called Tony without a second thought, but that was then and this was now. “I’ll phone him later. He deserves to have a break from all the insanity. He doesn’t need me adding to his stress.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked, sounding surprised. “I mean, you… alright. If that’s what you want.”

Steve nodded slowly, straightening up. “It is. We’ve got work to do, and it’s not going to do itself. Let’s start the debriefing now. I want to go home and get some sleep. God knows we could all use a few z’s.”

The others nodded, murmuring their agreement; they had worked themselves close to exhaustion, and the ride in the van had been far from restful. Steve led the way inside, stuffing the phone back into his pocket without another glance at it.

 

 

It was nearly midnight when Steve and Bucky found their way home. They had debated on just staying the night at HQ, feeling utterly drained after the chewing out Fury had given them, but had opted to go home solely because it meant being able to avoid checking in again the next morning. Steve had no urge to go out on international missions again – at least not without a few months of rest at his back.

His phone was like a brick in his pocket, a constant reminder that he should be calling Tony; it hadn’t rung once, and he hadn’t had a single text or voice mail left behind for him to answer either.

They rounded the corner ready to drop off to sleep in their own beds, thankful that they had been able to get themselves home without a chaperone tagging along behind them. There was a man sitting on the floor beside their door, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees. As Steve got closer he noticed that the man had scraggly grey hair; his skin had a washed out look to it, and while the grey made the man seem old, the skin made him seem more sickly than elderly.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you in need of any – _Tony_?” Steve gasped, dropping down to his knees. Tony looked up, his eyes focusing slowly. He reached out and grabbed Steve by the shirt, pulling him closer. “Steve? Is that you?”

Steve felt like crying; he swallowed back his tears, taking in Tony’s ragged appearance. While Tony was dressed in a designer suit, his pale dress shirt was wrinkled and sweat stained; bandages with frayed edges peeked out around his neck and sleeves. Tony’s fingers and hands were wrapped tightly in bandages that were stained an unnatural pinkish grey, just a little on the side of filthy.

Steve touched the side of Tony’s face without thinking, running his fingers over the square bandage taped to the Tony’s cheek.

Tony winced, cracking a weak smile but didn’t pull away. “Can we go inside? My ass fell asleep a few hours ago, and I’m kind of tired,” he said.

Bucky dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, pushing it open. “You need help getting inside? You look like hell, buddy.”

“Yes, please,” Tony grunted, trying and failing to stand. He rested his head against Steve’s cheek as Steve hefted him up, whimpering when the centre of his chest collided with Steve’s meaty shoulder. “Careful.”

Steve shifted Tony’s weight gingerly, moving him as easily as he might lift a house plant; he had never been more aware of his super strength than he was now. He was terrified of pressing too hard in case he crushed Tony’s bones. “How badly are you hurt?” Steve asked, carrying Tony to the couch. He set him down and began to check him over, fingers moving quickly to the buttons on Tony’s shirt.

Tony grabbed his hand, lifting his head sluggishly. “No,” he said, “Leave it – its fine. You don’t want to see what’s under there, trust me.”

“What happened?” Steve asked, rocking back on his heels. He wanted to pull every piece of clothing off Tony to find every bruise, every scratch – everything that had been done to him; whoever had kidnapped Tony would be lucky to escape alive when Steve got his hands on them. He moved to pull his hand away, and was surprised to find that Tony didn’t want to let him go.

Tony squeezed Steve’s hand, stroking Steve’s knuckles and the calloused pads of his fingers. He shifted against the cushions, tugging Steve closer until he was almost in Tony’s lap. He wrapped his arms weakly around Steve’s middle. “Can I stay for a few days?” Tony asked in a whisper. The bags under his eyes seemed more pronounced than ever, the grey to his hair growing lighter and more silvery by the second. He let Steve go and tugged his jacket off, letting his tail free.

The sight of it made Steve’s heart ache.

Tony’s tail was limp and grey, looking like it was a piece that had been pinned to Tony’s body after it had been swiped from some child’s Halloween costume. It twitched as if recognizing Steve and then lay miserably still against the cushion, the once lively limb going deathly still.

“Of course you can stay,” Steve said soothingly, smoothing Tony’s hair down. He took Tony’s jacket and hung it up, coming back with a blanket. He draped the blanket over Tony’s back, smoothing out the creases; Tony’s shoulders seemed more bony than they had been, the soft flesh that had once been there turned to lean, lithe muscle. Had he been starved? Or was this the result of forced physical labor?

“What happened?” Steve asked again, sitting down beside Tony. He had gotten his hands on a copy of the SHIELD reports on Tony’s kidnapping during the debriefing through Natasha, but the papers hadn’t said much other than that Tony had been held by insurgents for ransom. Seeing Tony like this made him sure that something much more sinister had happened in that cave.

It had scared him that SHIELD knew so little about the kidnapping. What made it worse was that the one person who had known had neglected to tell anyone about it; Howard had kept his mouth shut and his head down even after he was back in an American hospital being treated for the injuries he had received during the attack.

The only way SHIELD had found out what was going on was when Pepper Potts had come to Agent Coulson privately, spilling the beans without fear of Howard Stark’s legal threats; she had been banged up and scared half to death, but that hadn’t stopped her from making sure Tony was alright. Steve was going to send her a few dozen roses when he got the chance, maybe even a bunch of those nice shoes she seemed to like; he wasn’t going to mince words when he got to Howard. How the hell could he have left his son alone to rot in a cave? Didn’t he care at all?

“I was going to demo the Jericho missile with Howard,” Tony began, tugging the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “It was supposed to just be a little wine and dine – you know, kiss up to the army so that they’d buy more Stark products. Howard figured it would be good if I got out there as the new face of Stark.” Tony snorted. “He said that I needed the practice chitchatting because I was too rude to people and if I didn’t watch it someone was going to teach me a lesson.”

Tony yawned, eyes half lidded. “I uh… I,” he looked around the room, seeming startled. “Wasn’t I just sitting in the hallway?”

Steve repressed a shudder, gesturing for Bucky to come closer. He pressed the back of his hand to Tony’s forehead, but could find no trace of fever. Concerned, he ran his fingers over Tony’s skull, but not a single bump was to be found. If it wasn’t a concussion or a fever, what could it be? Memory loss didn’t just _happen_ unless you had some kind of brain damage, or a disease of some kind. And for that matter, Tony was an Incubus so he shouldn’t have had been susceptible to problems like that.

But that wasn’t entirely true though, was it.

Tony had a human father.

Would that make a difference? He had healed broken bones before, so why the bandages – why the dark circles around his eyes?

Steve gently rubbed the back of Tony’s neck, trying not to worry about the way Tony started leaning sideways as if he was made out of putty.

Bucky did his own examination of Tony’s skull, his fingers teasing sluggishly through Tony’s greasy hair. “I’ve got nothing,” he said, sitting down on the coffee table. “He doesn’t feel warm either.”

“Steve?” Tony slurred, his eyes blinking open again. “How did I get here?”

“We came in from the hallway, remember?” Steve said calmly as to not frighten Tony. “I picked you up and carried you here.”

“Oh,” Tony mumbled, his eyelids drooping further. “Ok. Good. Can I stay here? I’ll be gone in a few days – don’t worry.”

“You can stay for as long as you like Tony. I like having you around, remember?” Steve said, pulling the blanket back in place.

Bucky shot him a concerned glance, nodding towards the kitchen. Steve eased Tony onto his side, carding his fingers through Tony’s hair; he tucked a pillow under Tony’s head when he was sure that Tony had nodded off and slipped away, following Bucky to the fridge.

Bucky eyed Tony over the counter. “There’s definitely something wrong with him,” he said, opening up a box of granola. He reached for a bowl, setting the box down to forage for proper cutlery. “More so than usual, I mean.”

Steve stole a handful of granola from the box as Bucky went for the milk. He watched Tony sleep as he chewed, hunger clawing at his belly. If they had spent the night at SHIELD, they might not have found Tony out in the hallway until morning; the thought of Tony lying there all alone left a sour taste in his mouth, and he was tempted to spit out his mouthful of granola to keep from gagging on it. He picked out the pieces of sliced almond from his handful of granola as he waited for his stomach to settle, nibbling at them one at a time.

“They ran him through medical, didn’t they?” Steve asked once he ran out of almond slices.

“According to the reports, yeah, they did. They didn’t find anything wrong with him aside from a few broken bones and an ‘anomaly’ in his chest,” Bucky said, slurping milk right out of the jug. “There was mention of something called an Arc reactor – Tasha didn’t put it in the official report because she didn’t think it was smart to give SHIELD any inside information when it came to Stark Tech. The Arc reactor is copyrighted – Howard came up with it when he was younger. No one else in the world can build them – at least not a stable versions. He’s got a massive version of the thing powering one of his factories, but other than that he hasn’t touched the blueprints in years.”

“What’s it do?”

“It’s an electromagnet,” Bucky burped. “I didn’t really ask. Didn’t want Howard hovering over me like the buzzard he is. He was touchy enough when I asked him about the Jericho missiles. Wouldn’t say fuck all about his reasoning behind the trip aside from the fact that it was apparently ‘important’.”

“You knew?” Steve sputtered, crushing the granola box by accident as he reached for another handful. “You didn’t say anything – you _knew_?”

Bucky shook his head, waving his hands at Steve, his bowl set aside so fast the milk sloshed up over the side. He gasped as he swallowed down a massive mouthful of milk and granola. “I knew about the missile and the trip – not the kidnapping. Howard didn’t say anything was wrong; no one had any idea that it hadn’t all gone as planned. Fury had me watching SI when I wasn’t on missions with you, but other than that we were pretty much in the dark. We’re lucky Fury suspected that something screwy was going on, otherwise Tony might still be wandering in the desert.”

Steve relaxed marginally, even though the wrath in his mind was still blazing. “So Fury knew?”

“No – weren’t you _listening_? We only found out about the whole thing a few days after Tony managed to rescue _himself_. He built some kind of robot armor and used it to destroy the camp they had been keeping him in. He barbequed all the terrorists and flew off. Again,” Bucky said, picking up his bowl again to fill it with more milk and granola, “this is all off-the-record stuff. Tasha couldn’t even mention it on SHIELD property in case the damned microphones picked it up and accidentally dumped it on the Council’s doorstep. If they heard anything, the shit-storm would have gone out of even Fury’s control. You know how they are. The Council would have had us picking a fight with the entire goddamned _country_ if they thought someone was doing unsanctioned deals with the enemy; that’s _their_ job.”

Steve leaned against the counter, staggered by the information. He had known that the Council wasn’t trustworthy, but he had never expected that they would willingly arm terrorists. Weren’t they supposed to be standing for American values? Weren’t they supposed to be _protecting_ people?

“They’re selling _bombs_ to terrorists?” Steve asked in disbelief, his voice shaky.

Bucky nodded. “They’ve been doing stuff like this for years, Steve. This isn’t exactly _news_. Tasha and I – when we were in with the Red Room we saw a lot of bad shit. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Council helped push things along just to build the Cold War stockpiling up. You know what things get like when people think war is coming for them – people were scared, and scared people are the easiest to take advantage of when things get hard.”

“So what do we do now? He’s sick – if what you’re saying is true, we can’t take him back to SHIELD,” Steve murmured.

“Yeah, that’s for sure. Can’t have him walking through the door with an Arc Reactor in his chest,” Bucky sighed. “They’d rip it out to send it down to R&D.”

“It’s in his _chest_?” Steve yelped. “You’re _kidding_ – but he was in a cave for Pete’s sake! Were they experimenting on him? Why didn’t you guys say anything earlier! I would have called him!” He wished that he had picked up the phone instead of stubbornly putting it away. He had been so _stupid_ – why hadn’t he just given Tony a call?

“They weren’t experimenting Stevie – believe me, I know experimenting,” Bucky growled darkly. He tossed his bowl into the sink, scowling at it as the mushy granola trickled into the drain. “They were trying to fix the damage they caused to his heart. One of Howard’s old bombs, the stuff they sold off on the black market, ended up exploding during the attack. According to Tasha Tony took shrapnel to the chest. Most of it’s embedded too deeply to be removed.” Bucky motioned to his chest, pressing a hand over his heart. “They can’t get it out even in a state-of-the-art hospital. It would kill him.”

“But he’s supposed to heal!” Steve snapped, feeling itchy all over. He scratched at his neck. “But he’s not healing.”

“Bingo,” Bucky said, rapping Steve on the shoulder with his spoon. “So what do you want to do?”

“What _can_ we do?” Steve sighed.

“We can wait – see how he looks tomorrow morning,” Bucky said. “But I’m not so sure that’s a good idea at this point. He looks like death warmed over.”

“We can call Doctor Strange,” Steve said quietly. He fumbled his phone out of his pocket. The good Doctor’s name and number had been in his directory ever since that fateful trip through the Succubus’ portal, punched in well before he had even gotten onto the plane to come home.

“You think he’ll know what to do? He put everything he knew into that report months ago,” Bucky said skeptically. “I mean, I know the guy’s got voodoo magic or whatever at his beck and call, but I doubt he’s going to be useful unless you want a charm bracelet or something.”

“We’ll never know unless we try,” Steve said, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hello? Doctor Strange? This is Steve Rogers – Captain America, yes. I know we’ve never met personally, but I need to ask you for a favor.”

 

 

Strange didn’t bother with taking a car service, or even with the door for that matter. He teleported directly into their living room even before Steve could end the call and hovered over Tony’s greying form with an inquisitive frown on his face. His cape made the living room seem smaller than normal; he nearly knocked over the coffee table when he turned to motion for Steve to come closer.

“I believe you are a very lucky man Captain,” Strange said, sounding a tad more amused than the situation called for, “if you had called me three days from now your friend would have been in an irreversible coma.”

Steve flinched. “It’s that bad?”

Strange hummed something that sounded like a song – filled with sounds and words Steve had never heard before – and then touched Tony’s forehead, pushing the sweaty strands of silvery hair back. Purple light shimmered around the pair of them, flickering and vanishing almost before Steve could register that it had been there in the first place.

“You see his colouring, correct?” Strange said softly.

Steve nodded; it was hard not to just grab the man and shake the information out of him as if he were some strangely dressed piñata. “I see it,” Steve said grimly, “What does it mean?”

“This, my dear Captain, is what happens when an Incubus or Succubus does not mate for more than six months. Colloquially, it would be referred to as a _drought_. I’m sure you’ve heard of that sort of thing before,” Strange chuckled, giving Steve an all-knowing smile. “With a demon of Tony’s persuasion, sex is a complicated and vital affair. One could say that he can’t live without it.”

“Wait,” Bucky said, his face contorting in disgust, “You’re saying the guy didn’t get laid and he’s what… shriveling up or something?”

“Essentially,” Strange sighed, “yes. He is losing the battle his power and biology have drawn him into, ostensibly not understanding the implications.” He levitated into the air with his legs crossed underneath him; it was an odd sight to see, especially in the middle of their living room. “Being outside his world is dangerous for him. He is tolled every day he spends away; his energy is syphoned off to feed the collective. Those who do not produce do not survive, and so he should be constantly refilling his reserves every chance he gets.”

“Why wasn’t this in the briefing you gave to SHIELD?” Steve growled, barely containing his rage. He was getting sick and tired of having to harass information out of people. He had thought the army had been good at protecting their secrets, but apparently they were nothing compared to SHIELD’s consultants.

“At the time I had not been able to study an Incubus or Succubus at length. They are illusive dream creatures, hard to pin down unless you have the correct spells. It took me months to create a portal strong enough to get me into their world, and another just to get back.” Strange stroked his beard, staring pensively down at Tony. “Believe me, had I known sooner I would have informed you. He is a good man despite his demonic bloodline. He is capable of so much in our world – worth so much more than any common engineer.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Tell us something we don’t know.”

“I have been watching your friend for quite some time now, but my work kept me detained elsewhere,” Strange murmured. “I had hoped to have a greater understanding of their culture to give to you, but until now there was not enough to write down. They are intensely private creatures, spreading information only in exchange for sexual favors.”

“I appreciate the help,” Steve said, “but it would have been nice to get a heads up before something like this happened.”

Strange smiled at Steve, as if he had just said some great joke. “There’s no need for anger Captain,” he said, hovering quiet contentedly over the coffee table. “I have the information you seek, although it was intensely draining to get it.” He sighed. “I fear I will need many, many showers before I am as I was.” He laughed to himself, rolling up his sleeves.

“Nevertheless, the problem at hand will not solve itself. First,” he said, cracking his knuckles as he stretched out in the air, “there are things you must come to understand and accept. Your friend is from a culture where only lust is recognized as an acceptable emotion. Their children grow up with this imprinted on their minds – very few leave their world except through dreams to collect progeny, and those who travel far almost always die. They are ill-equipped to deal with the hazards of a multi-emotional world – their intelligence is generally base, their wishes tinged with greed. They do not share, and do not take theft lightly.”

“So they’re all a bunch of horny bastards who don’t like people with sticky fingers,” Bucky snorted. “We already know that.”

“While that may be the case, they have their own folklore – tales of creatures and humans who have not responded to their charms as expected,” Strange said.

“You’re talking about the Immune,” Steve said sharply.

Strange started clapping, clearly pleased with Steve’s answer. “Bravo – right on target. The Immune are the quintessential gods and goddesses of love in their world. They embody an aspect of the Incubus and Succubus psyche which failed to develop – they are the only beings that they would have to woo, to win over by romance. Romance itself is a notion they know quite well. They dream of it – lust for it, as it were. Every single being in their world dreams of having a mate who is there willingly, without charm or power binding them together. Most assume that love is a lie, an old wives tale created by their Queen to give them false hope. Some believe, others…” Strange shrugged. “Others believe that there is no such thing – that there is no other reason for existing other than the propagation of their species.”

“So, what? Steve’s some kind of sex god to them?” Bucky laughed. “That’s insane.”

“He’s the pinnacle of achievement and honor. The root of all things good in their world. They dream of one day finding peace, of finding love amidst the lust. However most cannot fathom the depths of the sorrow love can bring with it. They don’t understand pain or suffering – and most of all they don’t understand what romancing someone is really like. They believe that what they will in their minds will come to pass with no effort on their part.”

“That sounds about right,” Steve sighed wearily. “He seemed to think we were getting married.”

Strange smiled softly. “He would. You were the one who chose him – out of all other creatures in his world, you sought him out and asked for his assistance.”

“I asked him for directions so that I could find his mother,” Steve grumbled, “I wasn’t exactly seeking him out back then. Besides, he’s the one who really helped his people out – if he hadn’t stepped in, the two Queens probably wouldn’t have agreed to anything.”

“Ah,” Strange said, pointing at Steve with a long slender finger, “but you didn’t _expect_ him to help. You were grateful when he did, were you not? You gave him a task that did not involve breeding, and you thanked him when he completed it. Surely you can see what that would do to him?”

“I don’t understand,” Steve said, putting his head in his hands. Sure, he could see what Strange was talking about, but he wasn’t really sure he had done anything that special. He had asked around – brought a few people back to the world they belonged in, but he hadn’t been trying to woo anyone. He hadn’t been propositioning Tony – had he?

“My dear Captain,” Strange said tiredly, “You understand perfectly. He followed you out of his world and came to yours because he cares for you. He gave up his birthright to be _here_. That is not a trivial act.”

“From what I remember, he said he didn’t have much of a birthright,” Steve argued.

“He had a place at his mother’s side as a dream-gazer – a profession able to direct and control the dream flow and energy levels within their world. He is Earth-born. They are not to be taken lightly,” Strange growled. “By coming here he could have incurred the wrath of his entire world. His mother could have had him strung up – or, of course, he could have been sealed up as she was.”

Steve felt a shiver run down his spine. He could still see Queen Maria’s naked and filthy form chained up to the obelisks keeping her restrained; he had seen her misery firsthand. If that had happened to Tony, he didn’t know what he would do. “I didn’t know,” he said softly. “What am I supposed to do?”

Steve looked down at Tony’s sleeping form in wonder, astonished by the lengths Tony had gone to in order to follow him back to Earth. At the time he had assumed that it had been because Tony had wanted to see Earth’s technology with his own eyes, to cultivate and adapt everything he came in contact with so that he could learn and grow. It seemed strange that someone would go through all that just to see _him_. Super soldier or not, he wasn’t the most interesting person in the world. There were a thousand other guys and dames out there that lead far more interesting lives. Sure, he helped save the world every now and then, but it wasn’t like he had been the only one. He was part of a team, every one of them just as important as he was.

“Your ignorance of the matter is nothing to dwell on Captain. You have a choice to make _now_ , one that I am loath to force any man or woman to make,” Strange said softly. He gazed down at Tony, who whimpered in his sleep, his smile turning bittersweet. “Tony can be revived, his energy restored if you are willing to, ah, as they say – take one for the team.”

“Oh god,” Bucky groaned, banging his head on the table. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

“I can’t do that,” Steve sputtered, his face going bright red. “He can’t consent to anything! He barely remembered that we carried him inside from the hallway!”

“A simple kiss will give him enough energy to become clear headed once more,” Strange said, dropping down to the ground. He walked over to Steve and patted him on the shoulder. “I have faith in you Captain. Talk it over with him – I’m sure he had his reasons for not sleeping with anyone after arriving here.” He hesitated, pursing his lips. “Whatever decision you come to, know that it does not need to be you who he sleeps with. He can regain his depleted energy through procreation with any partner. Were you reluctant to do so, you could perhaps find yourself someone willing to do the deed in exchange for money.”

“I’m not buying him a hooker, if that’s what you’re saying,” Steve grunted, glaring at Strange.

Strange shrugged, letting his hand drop from Steve’s shoulder. “It is your choice. But as I have said – speak with Tony. Find out what he wants to do. All you need to do is give him a kiss and he’ll perk right up. After that, it’s all up to you. If your friend over there wants to lend you a hand, that could work too,” Strange said with a smirk.

Bucky didn’t bother looking up from the table as he flipped Strange off.

“I didn’t think so,” Strange chuckled. “Think about it Captain, but don’t wait too long.”

Purple energy began to swirl around Strange as he was pulled into another dimension. He vanished, leaving his words floating in the air. “He has three days until his coma becomes permanent. Choose wisely.”

 

 

 

Steve sat down on the floor beside the couch, his knees finally giving out. He felt like he was running a low grade fever; his face was hot and sweaty, not entirely comfortable. He leaned back against the armrest brushing his bangs out of his face. “Oh Tony,” Steve sighed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky snorted loudly from the table, his breath nearly knocking the place mat onto the floor; it dangled on the edge, its frayed edges flopping back and forth. Bucky grabbed for it, tugging it back up onto the table, taking the time to smooth the wrinkles out with the flat of his hands. He cleared his throat, pushing his chair back. “So, uh… I think I’m going to go out for a while,” he said, standing up.

“Why?” Steve asked. He blinked at Bucky for a second before remembering Strange’s instructions. “Oh,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. That’s probably a good idea.”

“No shit it’s a good idea,” Bucky said. He disappeared into his room, returning with a duffle bag and his jacket. He made for the door and then let out a loud sigh, backpedaling until he was beside the kitchen table again. He set his things down and turned his chair around, sitting on it. “You know,” he said, twiddling his thumbs, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“What?” Steve looked up, startled. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky sighed dramatically, hunching forwards. “If you really, _really_ don’t feel comfortable sleeping with him, I can do it for you.”

“Bucky,” Steve said, his voice strained, “You know I can’t ask you to do that.”

Bucky shrugged, clasping his hands over his knees. He nodded towards Tony, wiggling his fingers. “It’s not that big of a deal Steve. You know this isn’t my first rodeo.”

“I know that,” Steve grumbled. “I know.” He grasped for words, gnawing on his lower lip until it was sore. “Is this really our decision to make?”

Bucky frowned, his gaze falling on Tony, who hadn’t moved in inch since Strange had left.

It was strange to see the Incubus so quiet, so still. It was almost like he had been drugged, the sleep completely unnatural. Steve ruffled Tony’s hair, feeling just how brittle and fine it had become. If he hadn’t known that Tony aged differently than humans, he might have thought the man had aged by fifty years. He wanted to gather Tony up in his arms, to hug and kiss him until it was better again, but a part of him was certain that it wasn’t what Tony really wanted. Sure, Tony had hugged him – he had been outside the door waiting, but if what Strange had said was right Tony had been coasting on fumes. He probably hadn’t known _what_ he was doing, and there was no way Steve was going to force him into anything against his will. He would cut his own foot off before he let that happen.

“Then let’s ask him,” Bucky insisted, straightening up. “Pucker up and give him a kiss. We’ll see what he wants to do and _then_ you can get all mopey on me. Time’s a wastin’.”

Bucky was right. Steve went up onto his knees kneeling in front of Tony’s prone form. There wasn’t any time left to waste. It was now or never. He ran his fingers through Tony’s hair again, leaning down and pressed his lips to Tony’s; it wasn’t much of a kiss, just a chaste little thing, lips pressed to chapped lips but it did the trick.

Tony’s eyes fluttered open lethargically. He twisted his body so that he could peer up at the owner of the lips pressed against his own. The smile on his face was unmistakable; Steve tried to pull back but found his ear trapped in Tony’s hand, Tony’s lips pressed firmly to his. “ _Steve_ ,” Tony mumbled softly against Steve’s lips. His pale face flushed with colour as his body started healing itself.

“Hey,” Steve said, cupping Tony’s face in his hands. “Are you with us?”

Tony blinked at him slowly as he sat up; he let go of Steve’s ear with reluctance, pleased when Steve allowed himself to be pulled between his knees. He winced when he lifted his arms to wrap them around Steve’s neck, grimacing in pain. “When have I _ever_ not been with you?”

Steve smiled in relief. He bumped his forehead against Tony’s, wrapping his arms around Tony’s middle mindful of the bandages hiding injuries he didn’t know nearly enough about. He would ask about them later, but for now he was just glad that Tony was _Tony_ again.

Tony pressed his lips to Steve’s again with a loud smacking noise. “This is real, right?” He pulled back when he realized that Steve wasn’t kissing back, raising an eyebrow. “Steve?”

“It’s real Tony,” Steve said quietly, stroking the side of Tony’s face. “It’s real, and I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Tony’s smirk faltered. “What’s wrong?” He seemed startled when Steve lifted his tail up to show it to him. He took his tail from Steve’s hands looking embarrassed. “Whoa,” he said, giving his tail a shake. “I uh…I swear it’s never done that before.”

“We called in help,” Steve said, taking Tony by the chin. Part of him wanted to rip Tony a new one for being so irresponsible, for ignoring something that could have killed him, but he couldn’t bring himself to be angry; he couldn’t fault someone for not wanting to sleep around. “Doctor Strange is the Sorcerer Supreme of our Universe. He said that you haven’t been replenishing your energy for the past six months.”

Tony looked sheepish. He let his tail drop, rubbing his thumb against Steve’s jaw, playing with the stubble he found there. “I didn’t think it had been that long,” he admitted, bowing his head. “It’s normally not like this – _I’m_ not normally like this.” He let out a huffed sigh, bumping his forehead against Steve’s again. “I just…I guess I didn’t feel like having sex.”

“Strange said that you have three days until you fall into a coma and die Tony,” Steve murmured, aware only vaguely that he was crying harder than he had when he had first woken up from the ice; it felt like the world had gone out of step, everything gone from it except for Tony. “I don’t want you to die honey.” He held Tony close, rubbing circles on Tony’s back. “Please don’t die. Don’t leave me here alone.”

Tony sniffled, burying his nose in Steve’s neck. “I don’t want to die either,” he murmured, his tears smearing against Steve’s skin. “I don’t want to leave you.”

 

Bucky stood up and grabbed his things off the table, pushing his chair back in; he was smiling, slightly teary eyed too although he looked like he would deny it if anyone said anything. “I’m going to hit the road then. Let me know when it’s safe to come home again. And seriously,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “No fucking in the living room. I’ll know if you do – so don’t you dare.”

Steve’s ears felt so hot he was sure they were going to melt clean off his body; Tony’s squeak of a laugh made him pretty sure that he wasn’t the only one embarrassed. He looked up and started laughing when Bucky gave him a loose salute, his bag slung over his shoulder. “Thanks Buck,” he said, wiping his eyes.

“Not a problem Cap,” Bucky said, starting for the door. He stopped, not turning around. “Seriously – do your business in your bedroom. I don’t care how much you two love each other, and yes I know that the couch is Scotchgarded,” he growled, turning on his heels. “But I will end you _both_ , so help me god, if I find one single _hair_ on that couch – anything else and it’s open season on Incubus _and_ Super Soldier.”

“Fair enough,” Steve chuckled, reaching down to pick Tony up; the Incubus was like a pillow in his hands, so light Steve was afraid he might float clean out of his grasp.

Tony wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist, grinning over Steve’s shoulder. “I could get used to this,” he purred, nuzzling Steve’s throat.

“For the love of god,” Bucky yelled, throwing the door open. “Keep it in your pants until I’m not in the room!” He slammed the door behind him and locked it, but by then Steve was already halfway into his bedroom, and he could have cared less if the neighbors knew what was going on.

 

 

Tony’s fingers worked frantically at Steve’s waistband, trying to rip open the khaki’s like they were the last bit of wrapping paper on his first Christmas present. He grinned as Steve started to gingerly unbutton his shirt one button at a time.

“Need a hand there?” Tony coaxed Steve’s fly open with one hand, tugging at Steve’s briefs.

Steve rolled his eyes and wiggled out of his grasp, moving his way down the line to the next button in sight on Tony’s shirt. “You’re hurt. I’m not going to rush anything,” Steve grumbled. The buttons gave way easily even though more than a few were buttoned up wrong; the sight of each new greyish-pink strip of bandage made Steve’s stomach turn.

“It’s fine,” Tony murmured gently, stroking the side of Steve’s throat. “It doesn’t hurt.” He pressed a kiss to Steve’s forehead, leaning back on his elbows to enjoy the show as Steve slowly continued to tenaciously go after the buttons; a lazy smile played across his lips as Steve got his shirt open, the fabric brushing against his hips. “You make taking all the little things in life ridiculously sexy. Did you know that?”

Steve smiled, turning away to shuck off his pants and shirt; it wasn’t as if Tony hadn’t ever seen him naked before, but this time it felt more intimate, as if this was the first time they were on the same bed together. He moved to help Tony out of the rest of his clothing and then paused, fingers hovering tentatively over Tony’s belt. “Did you want – because I can wait or you can – I guess,” Steve mumbled, swallowing his words down.

“It’s _fine_ Steve,” Tony chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers, slowly lifting his hips so that Steve could get a hand underneath him; he arched his back as Steve gently tugged the trousers off, pulling Steve’s hand down against his groin. He let out a pained groan when Steve’s palm brushed against his tented briefs, rocking shamelessly against Steve’s hand.

“Someone’s eager,” Steve noted with a laugh, taking the time to tug Tony’s socks off one toe at a time.

Tony shed his shirt, casually dumping it over the side of the bed. “Of course I’m _eager_ ,” he growled. “I’ve been waiting six months for this.”

“Same here,” Steve murmured, wriggling out of his briefs. He had been hard ever since his knees had hit the mattress, and it felt like his cock was getting harder with every word tumbling from Tony’s mouth.

Tony’s eyes widened; he ran his tongue over his lower lip as Steve moved across the bed on his hands and knees. “Wow,” he murmured, gulping in air. “I forgot just how _good_ you look naked. I could eat you right up.”

Steve smiled, running his fingers down Tony’s belly, snapping the elastic on Tony’s briefs. “So,” he said, clearing his throat. “How are we going to do this exactly?”

Tony stared at him as if he had started talking in tongues. “What?” He sat up sluggishly, hunching forwards, his eyes eating Steve up with every sweep he made of Steve’s body. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Steve coughed, drawing nervous circles on the sheets, “I mean, for your _condition_ – do we have to do this any way in particular?”

“My _condition_? What the hell are you – _oh_.” Tony’s jaw dropped. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, a mixture of annoyance and confusion on his face. “Right. My condition.” He was gorgeous even with his obvious weight loss, his figure more chiseled than it had once been. He started picking at the bandages bulging over his sternum, something metallic and circular peeking out from underneath with each nervous twitch of his fingers. A faint blue light stained the white strips of fabric there; the bandages slid and suddenly the room was painted blue as the light that bounced.

Tony hunched his shoulders, trying to yank the bandage back in place, clearly unhappy by the light. It was strange to see Tony so curled and small; he wasn’t exactly delicate, but there was definitely an air of injury to him, something sharp and angular when he had been so much more soft and rounded before.

Steve rested his hand on Tony’s shoulder, hoping to give him some comfort. “Are you alright?”

Tony sighed. “I’m fine,” he muttered. He looked up and at once Steve knew that there would never be another person for him – not after Tony; the thought of him vanishing from the world made Steve’s heart heavy and his eyes water again.

“Have you ever done this before?” Tony asked, clearing his throat when his voice threatened to break.

Steve shook his head, shifting so that he was pressed up against Tony’s body, their thighs just gently touching. “No,” he said. “I’ve been with a woman before, but I’ve never done this with a guy.” Peggy had been kind with him, her body sweet and supple in ways he hadn’t known a body could be. They had slept together a few times before the war ended, but the act had been more from frenzy than love; with Tony it felt different. He wanted to take all the time in the world to make him feel just how loved he really was. He wanted to make all those wasted, stupid months up to him.

“I see,” Tony sighed. “Are you _sure_ you want to do this? Because I don’t want you to think you have to do this – I mean, this is something big right? For humans? They don’t usually just jump into bed together unless they’re in a relationship right? And well…” Tony grimaced, looking down at Steve’s finger still drawing in the sheets. “We’re not. In a relationship I mean.”

“Tony,” Steve said, as he leaned forwards and kissed Tony on the lips, “You’re the only guy I’ve ever thought about like this.”

Tony ran his fingers through Steve’s hair, pulling Steve closer for another deep kiss that left them both gasping for air. “If you’re sure,” Tony panted into Steve’s mouth. “If you’re sure, I wouldn’t mind doing this with you.”

“Oh gee,” Steve chuckled, pushing Tony flat onto the bed, straddling his hips. He leaned closer until they were chest to chest, taking care not to put too much pressure on Tony’s ribs. “You make it sound so sexy when you say it like that.”

Tony laughed, tweaking Steve’s left nipple in retaliation, earning a soft grunt for his efforts. “Well I do know sex,” Tony purred. His voice seemed to go directly to Steve’s cock, because soon it felt like it was made of steel, his every nerve alive and on fire.

Tony nibbled and sucked marks all over Steve’s pectorals, eagerly mouthing over his sternum and nipples. Steve gasped, his mind hazily supplying that each new mark branded him as Tony’s and only Tony’s. Even if they wouldn’t last, he would still remember where they had been, where each nip had landed, each press of lips to flesh a blessing. He slid his hand between Tony’s legs, squeezing his cock; Tony let out a long throaty moan pushing up against Steve’s hand, the fabric of his briefs becoming damp.

“I’d like to learn– if you want to teach me what to do,” Steve whispered in Tony’s ear.

“Oh yeah?” Tony gasped.

“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding feverishly.

“Well,” Tony murmured, tapping a finger on Steve’s lower lip, “the first thing to do is probably take my underwear off.”

“Oh?” Steve said.

Tony smirked, sliding his hand around Steve’s hip to play with his ass; he pressed harder, fingers skimming over flesh that was suddenly realizing it had never been touched before. Steve nearly went face first into Tony’s chest, shivering at the unexpected contact.

“Of course,” Tony murmured, moving his hand back up so that he could cup Steve’s left buttock. He gave it a firm squeeze when Steve kissed him, lifting his hips so that they were pressed together cock to cloth covered cock. “It’s so much better skin on skin. Honestly, I can’t understand why you humans insist on wearing clothes all the time when you can just walk around naked. Takes the stress out of the day when you can just bend someone over something and _give_ it to them,” he purred in Steve’s ear.

Steve gasped, pushing back against Tony’s hand. “Tony – god yes!”

Tony kneaded Steve’s flesh in an unforgiving rhythm of left-than-right. Steve panted, pushing his face into Tony’s neck as the calloused fingers explored his flesh, never pressing in only rubbing over the tight pucker.

“Oh god - Tony – Tony!” He had never felt like this before, had never lost himself so completely. Even Peggy hadn’t touched him like _this_ ; he couldn’t get enough and when Tony slowed to a halt it was like torture. His balls ached horribly as his cock rubbed a wet streak up Tony’s thigh.

“Take my briefs off,” Tony said, his voice rough. He let his hands still, rubbing soothing circles on Steve’s abused buttocks. “Come on baby, get me out of them. I want to feel you so bad.”

Steve obliged, tugging the briefs down Tony’s hips so fast he was surprised that they hadn’t just ripped clean off. He worked the fabric down Tony’s legs, waiting for Tony to toe them off and then sank down, pressing his cock against Tony’s. If there was a heaven, this was it; he could have stayed here like this forever and he wouldn’t have _ever_ regretted it. He shifted ever-so-slightly, grinding them together; Tony’s cock was like fire against him, every new inch of skin turning the blaze into an inferno.

“How do you want it?” Tony whispered into Steve’s ear, lifting his hips as Steve rutted against him. “You want it hard baby? Do you want me buried deep inside you?”

Steve nodded, sweat dripping down his throat. “Yes – _please_ , anything.”

“You have lube?” Tony twisted to free his tail from where it had been trapped underneath his leg; it flexed and wiggled as if working out kinks and then slithered towards the dresser wrapping around the handle.

“It’s in the top drawer,” Steve grunted in between bruising kisses. “It’s in there with a bunch of other stuff so be careful.”

“Alright,” Tony grunted, his tail working to gather the tube of lube as he began to knead Steve’s ass again, spreading him out. He licked his index finger and started working it inside, rubbing his cock against Steve’s when Steve tensed at the intrusion. He swirled his finger slowly before withdrawing, brushing against things inside Steve that had him see stars.

Steve groaned; there was a click, the sound of liquid squirting and then something was pressing inside him, something much, much bigger than Tony’s finger had been. He gasped as Tony’s hands began to knead his ass again, realizing just what it was that was pushing in and out of him.

“Is that your _tail_?” He blurted as his body begged for more.

“Of course,” Tony purred, nuzzling Steve’s cheek. “This way I can open you up and give you a squeeze at the same time. Do you like it? Or should I stop?”

Steve shook his head, arching up into the next thrust, almost wailing as the tail picked up the pace. “No, no it’s _good_. So good,” he whimpered, reaching down to fist his cock. He tugged at the crown, thumbing his slit again and again, eyes squeezing shut. “Tony…” The tail inside him felt like it was getting bigger, the thrusts working deeper and deeper until he felt oh-so-full. He spread his legs, aware that Tony was working a finger into him alongside his tail and moaned loudly, releasing his cock so he could grab a hold of the sheets instead. He wouldn’t last long like this – not with Tony pushing into him from behind and rubbing at him from the front.

Tony seemed to notice because suddenly Steve was on his side with Tony pressed up against his back. His tail slipped free to wrap firmly around Steve’s throbbing cock; Steve let out another whimper, wanting to complain at having been left so empty.

Tony kissed his ear. “You alright?”

Steve nodded slowly, shivering at the sensation of sweat trickling down his back.

Tony’s cock was so much bigger than his tail had been; Steve had to bite down hard on his lip to try and use the pain to stop himself from coming right then and there. He could feel Tony’s moan vibrating in his shoulder, felt his leg being lifted up so that Tony could thrust deeper.

Tony’s fingers dug into Steve’s muscular thighs, holding on tightly as he thrust again and again. “Steve,” Tony murmured, his tail tugging at Steve’s cock in a way that made Steve think he was going to overload on bliss, “You’re so tight honey, so fucking _tight_.” His thrusts became more erratic, each move sending jolts of pleasure through Steve’s body.

“Oh god – Tony!” Steve gasped as he came, wrapping his fingers around Tony’s tail.

Tony grunted; he gave one last thrust, and came pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder. He panted, resting his cheek against Steve’s sweat slick skin, his fingers digging into the meat of Steve’s hip. His tail released Steve’s cock to flop lifelessly onto the mattress, curling around the mess it had made as if celebrating a job well done.

“Whoa,” Tony puffed out. “That was different.”

Steve wiped at his sticky belly, his eyelids drooping as the exhaustion he had been fighting all night finally came crashing over him; he lay there, blissfully hazy, listening to the sound of Tony panting in his ear. If the world could always be like this, then maybe it wasn’t so bad to be free from the ice after all.

He felt Tony pull out, the slow tug of his sore muscles dragging him back into reality. He rolled over, taking Tony’s face in his hands, watching in awe as the grey hairs and pale skin started to change colours; Tony’s brown hair and neatly trimmed beard became darker than ever. His olive skin seemed to outright glow, his pallid complexion gone in stages. His tail turned obsidian black again, and it was livelier than ever. It began to stroke Steve’s back, dipping down to tease its way between his legs until Steve had to lean forwards or else risk rolling onto it.

“So,” Tony smirked, rubbing at the patch of lube Steve had inadvertently smeared on his cheek. “That was _fun_.”

Steve kissed Tony, smiling when he felt Tony’s tail wrap around his thigh as if begging for attention. “Yeah,” he murmured warmly. “I guess it was _alright_.” He started giggling when he saw the annoyed look on Tony’s face, and gave him soft butterfly kisses until the unhappy expression went away. They lay together kissing, tangling their legs as their energy waned.

Tony crawled up onto Steve’s chest, grimacing when he moved too fast. He rested there, licking his dry lips as he settled in. The arc reactor dug into Steve’s chest a little, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant; his bandages were scratchy even though they were half soaked in sweat, yet Steve was completely at ease.

Steve tangled his fingers in Tony’s sweaty hair, feeling content for the first time in ages.

“I guess we need to talk now, huh?” Tony said after a minute, fidgeting under Steve’s touch. He sighed, flopping forwards so that he could rub his cheek against Steve’s chin. “I uh… I think we should probably… yeah.” He sat up again, peering down at Steve his expression changing from resigned to hopeful when he realized that Steve wasn’t shoving him away. “I mean, you’re _here_ – so you don’t hate me, right?”

“I never hated you,” Steve said. “I could never hate you.” He smiled when Tony kissed him on the tip of his nose.

“I missed you,” Tony murmured shyly. His tail reached down and snagged his pants where they lay crumpled on the floor, lifting them up so that he could fish something from his pocket. He pressed the wrinkled square of paper into Steve’s hand, rubbing his nose against Steve’s chin again. “This was probably the only thing that kept me going when they had me in that cave,” he said.

Steve sat up, peering down at the scrap in his hand; Tony made himself comfortable on his lap, happily taking up residence against his chest. The paper was wrinkled from having been folded and refolded over and over again. The soft blue lines on the page had faded into nothingness, leaving behind just a hint of handwriting. He thumbed at the paper; it was so worn it seemed ready to fall apart. He had little trouble recognizing what it was; this was his note.

Tony had gotten a hold of it after all.

Steve’s eyes watered; he rubbed at them, trying not to smear tears onto the fragile paper. “You read it?”

“Of course I read it,” Tony grumbled, flicking Steve in the forehead. He rested his head on Steve’s shoulder, his arms wrapping around Steve’s middle. “Pepper slipped it to me right before the presentation. I didn’t find it until after they had me,” he said, cuddling closer. “It was the only thing they let me keep.”

Steve hugged Tony tightly; he pressed his nose into Tony’s hair, letting the note drop to the blankets. “Oh honey,” he murmured, “I’m so sorry they took you. If I had known I would have come for you.”

“I know,” Tony whispered, closing his eyes. “I knew you would. I figured they would want to keep it quiet – no one wants Captain America traipsing around their evil camp, right? That would probably be bad for business.”

“Still, I wish I could have been there.”

Tony gave Steve’s bicep a squeeze. “You were with me,” he said. “I had you in my pocket, remember?”

Steve smiled, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. “If you say so.”

“It could have been worse. They either didn’t know or forgot that I understand all of your human languages. Every time they sent videos off to whoever it was they were contracted by, I heard what they were jabbering on about. They even gave me a translator slash assistant to work with. He was…” Tony broke off, resting his face against Steve’s shoulder. His body shook with sobs he refused to let out.

Steve stroked Tony’s hair, resting his head against Tony’s.

“He was a really _nice_ guy Steve. Yinsen was a professor – really knew his shit too. We didn’t get to know each other that well and I… I wish I had asked him more questions – I wish I had been able to help him get home to his wife and kids. God – what the hell is wrong with me? Why are my eyes leaking – is this normal? For humans I mean?” Tony sniffled, swiping at the tears on his cheeks. “It’s never done this before – I’ve never – It feels _awful_. Why is this happening?”

“You’re never felt sad before?” Steve asked, startled.

Tony shook his head. “No. We don’t really do anything other than fuck and sit around in my world.” He wiped at his face again, glaring at the tears smeared on his skin. “This is normal? I’m not going to suddenly keel over and die am I? You’ve felt like this before?”

Steve smiled. “I’ve felt sad lots of times.”

“Really?” Tony sounded skeptical. “I mean, I know you’re Captain America and that you’re basically the epitome of truth and justice, but you wouldn’t _lie_ to a guy from another world, would you?”

Steve chuckled. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Lots of people get sad. It’s normal – nothing out of the ordinary or to be afraid of if that’s what you’re thinking. I know I’m not the best at dealing with it, but I do know what it’s like to lose people, and I’ve got good ears if you ever want to talk about it.”

“I appreciate the offer, but… no, I really _don’t_ want to talk about it. I don’t even want to _think_ about it,” Tony grumbled, wiping his eyes on the back of his arm. “I don’t like this feeling. I wish it would just go away.”

Steve rubbed soothing circles on Tony’s back, mindful of the bandages. “Unfortunately, that’s not how feelings work, honey. They kind of do their own thing.”

“Well, they suck,” Tony sniffed, bumping his head against Steve’s shoulder again. “I don’t know how you put up with them all the time. It feels like I’m going to go crazy.”

“I feel the same way sometimes too. I guess it just goes away after a while. Sometimes it’s hard to think about the people you’ve lost, but it hurts less over time,” Steve murmured.

“Is that why you don’t look at that box in your closet?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied, kissing Tony’s forehead, “sometimes it hurts too much to look at the stuff in there, but I don’t think I can ever get rid of it.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Tony sighed. “I just wish I had helped him, even if it was a little bit.” Tony hung his head and suddenly Steve could feel tears dribbling down his chest.

“Yinsen sounds like he was a wonderful guy. He helped you get back home and he was willing to risk his life for you. I’m glad you met someone like that. You deserve to have nice people in your life,” Steve whispered in Tony’s ear. “He must have really liked you.”

Tony nodded in agreement, wiping his nose on Steve’s shoulder. “He was really kind about everything, even when they hurt him. Your note made it a lot easier to forget that I was stuck in that shithole though. Did… Do you really fell all of the stuff you wrote down?” he asked.

“Of course I do. I wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget a single word,” Steve said. “I can say it out loud if you want. I was practicing when we were apart, praying that you’d give me a second chance. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it to you like I planned.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” Tony said, pulling back so that he could look Steve in the eye. He kissed Steve like he would die if he didn’t, capturing Steve’s lower lip between his teeth before letting him go. “I have a confession to make,” he said, looking sheepish.

“Oh? What did you do?” Steve smiled, capturing Tony’s tail playfully in his hands. He wiggled it under Tony’s nose until Tony cracked a bit of a smile.

“I sort of spied on you while we were apart,” Tony admitted, his tail flopping back and forth in Steve’s grasp.

“You were spying? What do you mean?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. “I think I would have noticed if you were following me around.”

Tony smiled harder, as if trying to force the expression to stick. “I broke into your files,” he said, addressing Steve’s bellybutton. “I uh… You said that I didn’t know you, and you were right. I didn’t – I _really_ didn’t and I guess I didn’t realize how important it was to you. I wanted to – you know, to get to know you for real. But by then you were mad at me, and I’d already made an ass of myself by telling you never to call me again and I… it wasn’t like I could just _ask_ you out.”

“So you broke into SHIELD’s secure files and decided to snoop around instead?” Steve teased. “That must have been fun.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, perking up slightly. “But that wasn’t _all_ I did.” He licked his dry lips, scratching the back of his head. “But I also … ok. This is going to sound _really_ crazy, and I’m really, _really_ sorry … but I sort of followed you on your date.”

“My date?” Steve frowned. When had he had a date?

OH!

He scowled, shaking his head at the absurdity of forgetting that he had gone out on a date in the first place. “You saw me with Sharon?”

Tony nodded slowly, a bitter look creeping onto his face. “I saw you two kissing. So I left.”

“You left?” Steve repeated softly.

“Yeah,” Tony sighed, “I left and then you showed up at my place the next day and I didn’t know what to think, you know? It was hard enough seeing you all the time through the security cameras, and then all of a sudden you were right there and… in _person_. If Pepper hadn’t stopped you I don’t know what I would have said to you.”

“Security cameras? What cameras?” Steve asked, baffled. He hadn’t been anywhere with cameras except for when he had been sequestered in SHIELD and he had only gone there a handful of times before he had gone to talk with Tony that last time. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh,” Tony shrugged. “I maybe, sort of, kind of installed cameras in your apartment to keep an eye on you, you know – in case something _bad_ happened.” He laughed nervously, leaning away as if he was about make a daring attempt at a backwards roll. It was oddly endearing the way his own tail patted him on the head, as if it was embarrassed by what he had done.

Steve shifted his weight, pulling Tony closer so that he wouldn’t fall off the side of the mattress. He may have been annoyed at being spied on, but he wouldn’t have wanted Tony to hurt himself; besides, the thought of Tony watching him all the time was kind of a turn on. The thought of Tony always watching, of Tony seeing every little detail of his life made something warm uncurl in his stomach. Steve’s face felt hot just thinking about it. “So you were spying on me the entire time?”

“Sort of,” Tony said, pushing his index fingers together. “I mean, it’s not like I was _spying_ on you in the _shower_ or anything. I was strictly watching the living room and your bedroom. And the kitchen. And the hallway.” He flashed Steve a smile that bordered on manic. “If you think about it, I probably kept you from getting robbed, and if you had been I would have known about it two seconds after it happened!”

Steve groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tony, you can’t just spy on people. That’s not polite.”

Tony scowled, bumping his head against Steve’s shoulder. “But it’s not like I was doing it because I’m a _creep_ – I just wanted to make sure that you were alright. You know,” Tony let out a sigh, gnawing gently on Steve’s collarbone. “I wasn’t there to watch out for you and you’re not immortal; even with your serum, you don’t heal like I do.”

Steve ruffled Tony’s hair, resting his hand on the back of Tony’s neck. “I appreciate you looking out for me,” he said, “Just… maybe don’t do that to anyone else? I don’t think other people will be as understanding.” He slipped his fingers back into Tony’s hair, massaging his scalp; he was glad that Tony had told him instead of simply finding the cameras one day while doing housework. God knows what Bucky would have done if he had been the one to figure out what had been going on. He didn’t want to have to get blood cleaned out of the carpet; not _again_.

Tony sagged against him, becoming dead weight in Steve’s arms. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“Forgiven?” Steve chuckled. “What are you talking about? I don’t think you need to be forgiven – at least not from me. Bucky on the other hand would probably appreciate it.” He let himself get knocked backwards, his legs pushed apart as Tony huddled against him. “Sure, you shouldn’t have put in surveillance equipment without permission, but it wasn’t like you were stealing things or beating people up. How did you hide the cameras by the way? I thought SHIELD was the only one with equipment like that?”

Tony pulled the blankets up over them, his tail dragging the pillows and sheets closer; he was nesting again, and Steve was glad to be surrounded by everything soft, pleased to be tucked away so safely.

“I found one of the ones Howard gave them and built it again from scratch. It was inefficient – poorly designed and made of cheap parts – I won’t bore you with the details but by the time I was done with them they were the size of a pea and had high definition lenses,” Tony yawned, idly doodling blueprints on Steve’s chest with his finger. “I can show them to you tomorrow if you want. Maybe your team can make use of them or something. You do spy things, right?”

“Yes, we do _spy_ things,” Steve laughed. He let out a rather unmanly squeak when Tony drew on an especially ticklish patch of skin just above his hip. Tony’s finger lingered, his tail wrapping comfortably around Steve’s left arm; it wound itself around Steve like a living bracelet, the tip patting Steve on the elbow as if to say it was ready for them all to go to sleep.

“Steve?” Tony said quietly, his body going limp as he wrestled valiantly against sleep.

“Yes honey?”

“We’re going to do this again, right? This isn’t just a once every six month kind of thing, is it?” Tony mumbled.

Steve stroked Tony’s hair, his limbs feeling heavy as he slowly lost his own battle with exhaustion. “I’m keeping you,” he whispered. “I’m…. fine with it being for forever if you are.”

“Ok,” Tony agreed, snuggling closer. “That sounds good to me. Forever it is. I’m keeping you too.”

“But I get at _least_ one proper date of out this,” Steve groused sleepily. “I want a real date – _and_ a do-over.”

“What’s a do-over?” Tony yawned, peering at Steve with one eye.

“It’s when you start over again when something bad happens, pretending that it never happened in the first place.”

“Oh, I get it. Ok. So, you only get the one?”

“Yes,” Steve said. “Only one. But sometimes you can give someone a few more if you really like the person.”

“Hm,” Tony murmured. He patted Steve gently on the forehead, not even bothering to look at what he was going; he nearly got Steve in the eye in the process. “Ok. Well, if we both get one, I’m alright with that.” He let his hand drop onto the pile of sheets, adjusting everything so that it was arranged just so as his tail tapped impatiently on Steve’s arm. “But you owe me one,” he said with a grunt, tugging a sheet out from under his hip, displeased with its positioning.

“Oh?” Steve murmured, already half asleep.

“Yeah,” Tony said, flattening down the unruly sheet. “You have to move in with me now.”

“I do?”

“Yep,” Tony mumbled drowsily. “You do.”

“Well, alright then. I guess I can do that as long as you forgive me for being such an idiot,” Steve said, rolling over. Tony rolled with him, tucking himself under Steve’s arm so that Steve’s nose was bumping pleasantly against his ear.

Steve watched lazily as Tony pulled the blanket up over his head, snagging it by the edge to keep him from completely vanishing from sight. “And we’re still bringing Bucky with us,” Steve said, lifting the blanket up so that he could stare down into Tony’s sleep clouded eyes.

Tony scowled at him, dragging the blanket back down. “Fine,” he mumbled into Steve’s chest, his breath hot and sticky against Steve’s skin. “But we’re going out for breakfast first before we tell him.”

“Deal.”

 

 

 

They woke up to the sounds of the last few songbirds in the city serenading the garbage men; it was the first bit of good sleep Steve had gotten since they had fought. When he reluctantly crawled out of the nest Tony had made for them, he was afraid at first that he hadn’t woken up at all. Tony looked like a beautiful dream dressed in the morning light even with bandages wrapped lazily around his middle; he smiled crookedly up at Steve. His tail swished back and forth under the blankets as he went up on one elbow, wrapping itself gently around Steve’s waist, binding them together.

“Hello gorgeous,” Tony purred, batting his eyelashes. He gave Steve a gentle kiss on the lips, smirking when he saw the way Steve’s eyes crinkled at the corners. He rubbed at the wrinkles, seemingly fascinated by them. “I see someone’s in a good mood,” Tony murmured, stealing another kiss as he leaned closer.

Steve hugged him close, sighing in contentment. “It’s hard not to be, with you here.”

“Oh, well, that’s true.” Tony nodded all-knowingly, nibbling delicately on Steve’s earlobe. His tail loosened enough so that it could reach up and smooth down Steve’s bedhead. “So, we’re going for a breakfast date, right?”

“Yes,” Steve agreed. “But I think the people at the restaurant would appreciate it if we showed up smelling a little better than we do right now. We’re going to have to shower first.” He picked at Tony’s bandages idly, peeking underneath; he saw nothing but smooth unblemished skin there, nothing that would need a bandage. “I wonder if we’ll have to change these,” he mused.

“I probably don’t even need them anymore,” Tony hummed, sitting up. He perched himself on Steve’s stomach, blindly searching for the clips holding the mess of bandages together. “I healed last night while we were sleeping,” he grunted as he found what he had been looking for; they had been stealthily tucked under his arm, likely to keep him from accidentally knocking them loose. He tugged them free, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Can you?” He gestured to the bandages and Steve gladly took them from him. Tony lifted his arms in the air as Steve untied him, his eyes locked on Steve’s as more and more skin appeared; each tantalizing strip was smooth and scar free, just like Steve had suspected.

When he reached the lumpy mound in the middle of Tony’s chest, the skin was no longer quite so virginal. Steve’s breath hitched; he had known that the Arc reactor was embedded in Tony’s chest, but he hadn’t known what it looked like or how deep the device was sitting.

The reactor was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. The brilliant blue light it emitted was almost ethereal, and for a few seconds Steve wasn’t sure if what he was looking at was real; it seemed like something magical, like it had been plucked from a dream. He ran his finger around the silvery outer casing, amazed by the way the metal was perfectly shaped and level with Tony’s flesh.

He eyed the scar tissue built up around the arc reactor, wincing internally as he thought about how much bone and muscle had been carved out of Tony’s body to get it in place; the doctor must have had a hell of a time getting everything level once he was done, and he didn’t even want to _think_ about what it would have been like in that makeshift operating room.

Each scar was uglier than the next, yet they was a testament to Tony’s will to survive, a badge of honor even if they did looked out of place on Tony’s chest. When Steve looked up again, Tony’s smile was gone, having faded into a pained grimace.

“You built this all by yourself?” Steve asked in awe, pressing his hand to the centre of the arc reactor.

Tony flinched at the contact.

Steve moved his hand way, rubbing soothing circles on Tony’s back instead, hoping that he hadn’t done something horribly wrong. “Sorry,” he said, “I hope I didn’t hurt you. Should I have not – I should have asked before I touched – I’m sorry.”

Tony shook his head rigidly. “No, it’s ok. You can touch it if you want.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s Howard’s original design; I just made it more compact and efficient.” He squirmed, looking a little like he wanted to start wrapping himself up again to hide the arc reactor from sight. “I know it’s messy – I’m sorry it’s so ugly.”

“It’s beautiful,” Steve said. He traced the scars around the reactor with his fingers, pleased when Tony smiled shyly at him; unfortunately the look didn’t last.

Tony grabbed Steve’s hand, pulling it away from the arc reactor, biting his lower lip like he was thinking about chewing clean through the thing. “You’re not freaked out by it? I mean,” Tony murmured, rubbing his thumb over Steve’s wrist. “Yinsen made a mess when he put it in, although I guess I can’t really blame him considering he saved my life and all. It’s not like he was working with the best tools or anything either. I was lucky they had a hack saw and a few scalpels on hand, so I guess I shouldn’t complain.” He scowled down at his chest in displeasure, digging at one of the largest scars with his thumbnail. “I thought it might clear up last night, but I think I was too badly hurt to heal over the old wounds. I guess the shrapnel’s in there for good now.”

“What does that mean?” Steve asked, gently pulling Tony’s hand into his so that Tony would stop tearing at himself; the skin near the scars was rapidly turning an ugly shade of pink, and Steve was afraid that Tony might draw blood if he kept at it.

Tony let out loud sigh, drumming his trapped fingers on the inside of Steve’s wrist. “It means that I have shrapnel embedded in my heart. The reactor is an electromagnet – you know what that is, right?”

“I know what a magnet is Tony,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

Tony poked him in the nose; Steve mock bit at his finger and Tony yanked it away, scowling.

“Let’s just put it this way. If the arc reactor gets taken out, then the shrapnel will start moving around again and I’ll die,” Tony said.

Steve swallowed hard. He had talked with enough veterans to know about shrapnel and its effects on the living, but he had never thought it would need to stay so stubbornly in place. The thought of a tiny metal fragment being the end of Tony made Steve’s head spin.

Tony wiggled in his grasp, pulling Steve closer so that he could rest his forehead on his shoulder, hiding his face. “It’s not that _bad_ you know. As long as I’ve got my spare, things are just peachy. I’ve got a bunch of them at home – don’t give me that look. I sent Jarvis a message this morning to make a few extra so that I can give you one to keep with you,” he said nonchalantly. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It doesn’t damage easily, does it?” Steve fretted. “I mean, it’s not like it’ll just break down, right?”

Tony shook his head and sat up, looking a tad insulted by the insinuation that his tech might somehow spontaneously fail. “I designed it to be able to withstand anything you can throw at it. Believe me Steve, it’s not going to just fall apart or be destroyed if it gets hit with a bit of gravel. It would probably be easier to kill me by just lopping off my head. There’s one downside though,” he scowled gloomily at the reactor again. “I’m not exactly pretty anymore, now am I? I mean look at me – it’s hideous! I don’t even feel comfortable looking at it, and I’m the one who made the damned thing.”

“Tony,” Steve said softly, kissing Tony’s forehead, “to me you’re beautiful no matter how many scars you have. And you know what? I’d take you with the scars any day if it meant you were healthy and safe.”

Tony chuckled, the darkness leaving his eyes. “You _really_ don’t mind? Not even a little bit?” When Steve shook his head, Tony tugged at the remaining bandage, yanking it free. He balled it up in his hand and then hurled it onto the floor with all of his might.

“Back home,” Tony sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, “I’d be a pariah because of this,” he said, gesturing ruefully to the scars. “People who have _defects_ have to cover up. There are laws about it – pretty shitty laws too. The ruling class was already pretty annoyed with what I did to my hands. Callouses aren’t exactly sexy even if they do feel pretty hot. My mother would probably have a hissy fit if she saw me now.” He leaned heavily against Steve, staring down at his hands. “But you don’t want to hear about that, now do you.”

“I do,” Steve said, lifting Tony’s chin up so that he could giving him a quick peck on the lips, “I want to know everything about you, remember?”

“Everything?” Tony asked, pushing Steve’s hand back against the arc reactor. He stared at it, admiring the way the blue light was painting Steve’s skin. “ _Everything_ everything? Or just some things everything? Wait – that sounds crazy. I mean everything.”

“Everything,” Steve agreed solemnly. He lifted Tony up giving him another lazy kiss. “Besides,” Steve said with a soft smile, their noses touching, “I’m in this for the long haul, remember? Nothing you say is going to scare me off.”

“Oh? Nothing at all?” Tony teased, kissing Steve again.

“Nothing,” Steve smiled, “will _ever_ scare me off.”

 

 

 

Neither of them had wanted to go too far from their comfy bed but unfortunately, the weeks of covert Avengers missions had finally taken their toll on Steve’s stockpiles. After a brief but informative look at the cupboards, they had decided that unless they wanted to take a chance and eat that last bloated can of expired beans, they would have to go out. They had breakfast at a small diner across the street from Steve’s apartment called Daisy’s Fry-up.

Tony sat across the table from Steve, lethargically prodding a salt shaker as he watched Steve order half the menu from memory. He bumped his feet playfully against Steve’s when the waitress walked off, the bemused expression on her face making him snort in laughter. “You sure do eat a lot,” Tony quipped. He pushed his tail off of the table, giving it a dirty look when he noticed that it had taken the pepper shaker with it as a trophy. He struggled with it in the oddest game of tug-of-war Steve had ever seen, cursing under his breath when it rapped him on the top of the head with the pepper shaker.

Tony won in the end although it was a close fight. He set the pepper shaker back in its rightful place on the table beside the salt shaker and the little ceramic box filled with Splenda, smirking to himself.

He started rifling through the sugars, lifting out and inspecting every last packet.

How many times had Tony had done something as simple as this? Had Tony spent any time sitting down at a table for breakfast since he had last eaten with them in their cramped apartment? It seemed like forever since they had been together last. The way Tony was eyeballing everything, made it seem like Steve wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been going out on the town.

Having finished with the sugars, Tony moved on to sort through the stacks of jam, scouring the various plastic packets with pursed lips. He held one up for Steve to look at, flapping it back and forth by its plastic tab. “What’s this stuff?” he asked.

“It’s raspberry jam. We had raspberries before, remember?” Steve said, tapping the other jam containers. “They’re all different types of jam. It’s a preserve people make by boiling down fruit. You usually put it on things like toast and pancakes.”

“Oh,” Tony said, frowning at the packet as if he suspected it to be lying to him somehow. “But why do they make jam? What’s the point? I’m assuming that it’s for a reason other than sheer vanity.”

“Fruit last longer if it’s preserved like that. It goes out of season, even with the technology we have.” Steve yawned into his hand, leaning against the table; it was nice and comfortable on his side of the booth, although he wouldn’t have minded if Tony had chosen to sit beside him.

He debated on giving Bucky a quick call to tell him that they had worked things out, but hesitated. A few more hours of privacy would be great and making that call would likely have them packing up their things for the big move over to Tony’s apartment instead of crawling back into his comfy bed.

 

“We don’t have seasons in my world,” Tony sighed, dropping the jam back into the pile. “Everything pretty much stays the same. It gets so _boring_.” He perked up when the waitress brought them the first of their three round breakfast, picking at the different types of food Steve had so kindly ordered. The pancakes made him smile and nod; the eggs and sausages seemed to make him a little more wary.

Steve pushed the syrup across the table towards Tony, starting in on his omelette. “You didn’t look up breakfast foods?” he asked through a mouthful of ham, cheese and eggs.

Tony shook his head, stealing a forkful off Steve’s plate with a cheeky grin. “After I took that first cooking class I thought it was a waste of time learning that stuff by myself. I was sort of hoping you’d show me all about it, seeing as how eating is your favourite thing to do.”

“It is _not_ ,” Steve grumbled, smothering his buttery toast with jam. “Wouldn’t it be faster if you learned about it by yourself? You read so fast, I was kind of expecting you to have looked all this stuff up by now.”

Tony shrugged. “I’d rather learn about it with you. I like the idea of being surprised by new things sometimes.”

“Well, alright, if you insist. I don’t mind showing you the ropes.” Steve grinned, offering Tony half of his jam covered toast; he had picked the raspberry, and the look on Tony’s face as he licked the jam off of his fingers was priceless. It looked a little like he might open up one of the packets and start devouring the stuff.

Steve had to admit, the idea of feeding Tony made him feel all warm inside; he could already think of a few special meals they could share. He wouldn’t mind trying out a few new things himself, and there was a whole _city_ out there filled with strange and exotic food just waiting to be explored.

The thought that Tony wanted to share that with him, well, that was something special. Steve could feel his cheeks burning, and he was fairly sure that it wasn’t because of the salsa he had just scarfed down. “That sounds like a good plan,” he said.

“Of course it is.” Tony grinned, swiping a hunk of the apple crepe to Steve’s right. His eyes glazed over as he ate with reckless abandon, getting powdered sugar in his beard as he went back for more.

Steve laughed, reaching over the table to rub the sugar away; Tony leaned against his hand, his eyes half closed in ecstasy.

“I’m a genius, Steve. _All_ my ideas are good.”

Steve chuckled, digging back in to his food.

 

The table in between them exploded; dishes and food flew everywhere, their quiet little breakfast ruined in an instant. Cutlery flew through the air and embedded in the walls, narrowly missing Steve’s face and Tony’s tail. Steve dove without thinking getting Tony out of the way as the tables behind him suddenly reared up and sprang forwards like charging horses. He heard Tony’s startled squawk as he rolled them both to the left and prayed that he had gotten them out of the way in time. The rogue tables crashed down onto the booth, smashing into the padded seats so hard the wooden frames and table shattered.

Fluff and splinters flew into the air, nearly blinding him.

Steve was sure that he had yelled Tony’s name, but it was like the world had suddenly become devoid of sound, every scrape and shout swallowed up.

Tony’s fingers dug into the waistband of Steve’s khaki’s as he was wrenched backwards across the floor by his tail.

Tony was screaming – he had to be, but there was no way to tell if it was because he was in pain or just startled. Steve grabbed for Tony’s hand and managed to keep him from being yanked through the hole in what had once been the diner’s front entrance; Tony’s eyes widened, his mouth snapping open as another soundless scream tore from his throat.

Time seemed to stand still. A hazy shape appeared behind Tony; it bent down, trapping Tony’s tail in its grasp.

Sound returned with a sullen pop. Tony’s screams blared in Steve’s ears like an air raid siren gone horribly wrong.

He dove forwards refusing to let go of Tony’s hand and tried to punch the figure as it took shape – she blocked his blow with her bare arm and sent him flying backwards, ripping him from Tony’s grasp effortlessly.

Steve recognized her as her hair blew out of her face. Her magic flowed around her in a string of pink and purple pearls, hovering in the air amidst the flakes of drywall and sawdust. Queen Maria Collins Carbonell did not look pleased.

She scowled at Steve, her beautiful features distorted with rage. “Stop this foolishness,” she growled, tugging harshly at her son’s tail. Tony whimpered, struggling against her but couldn’t break free; there was fear in his eyes, but it did nothing to dissuade his mother’s fury.

Steve pushed himself up, his palms bleeding where bits of broken crockery had pierced his skin. “Lady,” he said, gritting his teeth as he yanked a splinter from his palm, “You’d better have a good reason for disturbing our date.”

Maria laughed shrilly at Steve. She tugged at Tony’s tail and he was jerked backwards across the gritty floor hissing in pain, leaving a clean patch of tile in his wake. Her tail whipped forwards, tearing at Tony’s clothing, stripping him with terrifying efficiency.

Tony tried to fight her tail off with his own tail but wound up bound by the wrists by hers, kneeling at her feet as if in penance; he panted, twisting and turning in her grasp, trying to kick at her.

“You have been very _bad_ Tony. Why must you make things worse?” she snarled. She looked down at her son, checking him over and shrieked, gesturing to the arc reactor. Her lips curled in disgust. “What have you _done_ to yourself child?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Tony protested, struggling against her tail. He flushed in embarrassment, looking down at his nakedness, his cheeks peppered with pink. “I can’t – you can’t just wander around _naked_ here! Stop it!”

Maria released Tony’s hands so that he could cover himself, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “This false modesty doesn’t suit you, boy. You’ve been here too long – corrupted your flesh so willingly. I thought you were smarter than this. You should have come home long ago!”

“I don’t want to go home!” Tony spat, plucking the remainder of his shirt from the ruins of the booth. He covering his groin with the scrap of fabric; it had been one of his favourite shirts, the first one Steve had given him. He looked sadly down at the strips of fabric scattered across the floor, shaking his head. “I never wanted to be there, and you’re not taking me back.”

“Of course I am,” she hissed. “You have no choice in the matter!” She stepped over the remains of their breakfast, her skin somehow remaining unmarred by the broken glass and scraps of metal littering the room. She stood in front of Steve, seeming to tower above him despite her shorter stature. The air around her seemed to blur around the edges; warmth unnaturally radiated from her body. She stared down her nose at Steve, pushing herself into his space. “You were given a _gift_ human, and you chose to _steal_ from us? I should kill you now and save my sister the trouble.”

Tony scrambled to his feet, dropping his shredded shirt; broken glass pierced the soles of his feet as he struggled past his mother, but he didn’t seem to notice that he was leaving bloody streaks in his wake. He threw himself in front of Steve, his arms held out in front of him as he took up a fighting stance. “He didn’t do anything! I left on my own!”

Maria sneered at Tony, baring her teeth. “Don’t lie to me boy. I hate it when you lie.”

“I hate our world – what the hell made you think that I wanted to stay there forever? I don’t want to be chained to a goddamned rock! I want a life!” Tony growled. “You can’t have him – I won’t let you!”

“I’m not here for _him_ ,” Maria sighed wearily as her tail wrapped around her thigh. “I am here to take my _son_ – the foolish creature who slipped through a portal he had no right to use – home where he belongs. No one will have you now unless you fulfil your role as Earth-Born. Who would want such a _disgusting_ Incubus? I can’t believe my own blood would do something so utterly thoughtless.” She grabbed Tony by the arm, yanking him towards her and he stumbled, his blood-slick feet making him slip on the tiles. He hit the floor on his knees with a yelp.

“I won’t go back,” Tony said, trying to wretch his trapped arm free from her grasp. “Let me get my armor and we can fight this out fair and square.”

Maria snorted angrily, her hair tumbling down around her shoulders in silken waves. She leaned down, glaring at him. “You would threaten me with one of your _toys_? You would threaten your _mother_? You would threaten your _Queen_?”

“I’m not threatening you! I’m just asking for the chance to fight you on equal ground!” Tony insisted. “You know damn well I have no chance against you here or anywhere else – not like this. So why not fight me fairly? Why sully your magnanimous image dragging a weak little Incubus back to your nest? Wouldn’t you rather fight a more impressive battle?”

She frowned. “Is that what you think I came here for? _Battle_? To fight tooth and nail with an Earth-Born? Do you think I am here to cause chaos and havoc in the lives of petty little mortals?” She let his arm drop, taking his face in her hands. Her nails dug into his cheeks. “My boy, I am here because you have _suffered_. You nearly _died_. You will come home and keep me company as you did before. You will be safe with me this time, I promise. My sister will do nothing to harm you.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Tony said, struggling in her grasp. “I want to stay with Steve!”

She stood up, looking reluctant to break contact with her son’s skin and turned slowly to face Steve; the red crescent-shaped marks on Tony’s face stood out against his skin, vicious and brutal in the flickering fluorescent lights.

“You’ve _corrupted_ my son,” she growled. “You will pay for what you have done.”

Tony lurched forwards; he tried to grab his mother by the leg but she pushed him away as easily as she might flick at a feather. Her magic filled the air again, the scent of cinnamon becoming so overpowering Steve felt like he wouldn’t ever be able to breath clearly again. He sneezed so hard he saw double. His eyes burned and watered as pain shot through his body; his every nerve felt as if it was rubbed raw.

“I haven’t done anything,” he coughed, wiping at his eyes with the heel of his hand to try and restore his vision. “I love him – I’d never do anything to hurt him.”

The air became cold around Steve’s face. He blinked as his vision cleared.

Maria looked shocked, but that didn’t stop her from attacking again. Her tail snapped through the air like a whip, wrapping around Steve’s throat; he scrambled and grabbed it, squeezing at it with all of his might.

She sneered at him, clearly amused by his actions. “You think a little pressure will hurt me?”

He tried to use his momentum to slide closer to the remains of their booth where his shield lay in its bag; if he could just get to it, things would be alright he told himself as his brain tried to fight off asphyxiation. He cursed his sneakers for their lack of tread, punching at her tail as hard as he could while twisting his lower body to try and wedge his foot somewhere that might hold strong.

“Mother – stop it!” Tony cried out, grabbing her by the leg again. “Stop it!”

“Give me one good reason,” she said softly, her eyes locked on Steve. “And it had better be good.”

“I… love him…” Steve wheezed, kicking her in the chest.

This time she staggered, her tail loosening enough for him to break free. He skidded backwards and out of range, fumbling for the straps of his bag; he had his shield out before she could strike again, panting as if he had just run a marathon.

The next blow from her tail was deflected with a meaty gong.

She hissed in surprise pulling her tail back. She rubbed at it with her delicate looking hands, paying special attention to the spade-shaped tip. “How _dare_ you!”

“I’ve already told you – I love him and I’m not going to let you take him. You’ll have to kill me first,” Steve said, ready to strike at her again. “I don’t want to fight you ma’am, but he’s the most important thing in my life and I won’t lose him – don’t make me do this.”

Maria glowered at him and hopped backwards, nimbly avoiding the remains of a broken light bulb. Her eyes darted from Steve to Tony assessing the situation and then, to Steve’s surprise she went still. She dropped her arms to her sides, wrapping her tail around her waist. “Alright,” she said. “If you can prove that you love him, I’ll let him stay here with you.”

“And just what do you want me to do?” Steve asked, lowering the shield enough to get a better look at her.

She was paler than before, her cheeks painted with blotches of crimson. She panted, her chest heaving as she tried to draw in more air; her black tail was ringed with white, her irises and hair peppered with grey.

“Tell me the three things my son loves most about this world,” she said in a deathly whisper. “If you can’t he’s going home and you will _never_ set eyes on him again – not so long as I draw breath.”

Steve stared at her blankly for a moment. After all the trouble she had gone through, it seemed like an oddly simple way to beat her.

He smiled.

This was _easy_.

He knew this; he knew Tony, even if they hadn’t exactly exchanged life stories yet. He set his shield beside his leg, straightening up and spoke confidently. “He loves cheeseburgers,” he said locking eyes with Tony. “And he loves technology.”

“And the third?” Maria prompted, irritated by the delay. “What of the third? Or do you not know?”

“He loves me,” Steve said, knowing that it was true beyond a doubt. Tony had come back to him even though he hadn’t had to – he hadn’t run around flaunting his new singleness, or played endless teasing games. He had stayed alone, burying himself in his work, barely existing on his own; he had planted cameras and watched Steve when he had thought Steve was merely going on with his life.

It had struck Steve as odd at the time that someone as sweet and beautiful as Tony wouldn’t just move on; but Tony hadn’t, and he had almost died because of that choice. He knew now that it was the cave that had kept Tony away and nothing else; he had seen it in Tony’s eyes the night before, seen the way his note had been read over and over again until it was wrinkled and tattered beyond repair.

Tony wouldn’t have come back to him if he hadn’t been in love. He would found someone else to share his life with if he felt nothing. He could have had his pick of every eligible man or woman in the world, but instead he had come back for Steve; it could have been said that he had never really truly left to begin with.

Maria raised an eyebrow, swaying from side to side. “That’s what you think he loves? You think he loves cheeseburgers, technology and _you_?”

Steve nodded firmly. He didn’t need her to confirm what he saw in Tony’s eyes. He may not have ever been in love before, but this was it; he was sure of it. He leaned his shield against the wall and walked past Maria, scooping Tony up in his arms, danger be damned. Tony wrapped around him easily, burying his nose in the crook of Steve’s neck as Steve lifted him and tucked an arm under his scraped buttocks.

Steve settled Tony against his hip, kissing Tony’s hair; the scent of cinnamon poured from every pore on Tony’s body but instead of blinding Steve with its intensity it seemed to make things all the more clear. Tony’s tail wrapped around Steve’s left arm, wrapped tight enough to hurt, refusing to be pulled free.

Maria stared at the pair of them, flabbergasted; she looked like she wanted to say something but remained silent instead. She turned to peer at the remains of the diner, staring at the waitresses and waiters who stood frozen in shock by the kitchen door; she knelt and plucked the square porcelain jam container from amidst the wreckage of their breakfast and pulled a plastic container of jam free, staring at it as if it contained all the riches in the world. “Is this… fruit?” she asked quietly, looking up. Her eyes were wide, her expression startled; the rage had gone, leaving curiosity in its wake. She gazed at Tony, who turned awkwardly in Steve’s grasp to look back at her.

“They have to preserve it here because of the way their weather works,” Tony murmured.

Maria flipped the package over, running her finger over the text at the back, huffing out a throaty laugh. For a second Steve thought she was reading over the nutritional information; she flipped it back over and squeezed the package into the container, tucking the entire thing under her arm. She sighed, scrubbing a hand over her sweaty face.

“Officially, you’ll be living here as our ambassador to Earth,” she said resignedly. She stalked towards them, the container bouncing against her meaty hip.

Steve remained relaxed, Tony’s weight grounding him. They had won; he thought to himself in triumph, they had won.

Maria stroked the side of Tony’s face, scowling when she saw that he had managed to get his face coated in dust; her nail marks had healed up already, gone without hassle and she seemed unaware of what she had done. She licked her fingers and wiped at the first dusty patch of skin she could find, grumbling to herself. “They will call you back when he dies you know,” she said.

Tony nodded, grimacing as she wiped at another patch of dirt slightly closer to his eye. “I know,” he said. “I’m a genius, remember? I thought this out months ago.”

She rolled her eyes, pinching his cheek gently. “Then you had best remember to use your damned _brain_ next time. I expect to hear from you at least once a month. You will write to me, won’t you?” She smiled, her expression genuinely warm.

Tony nodded, pressing himself closer to Steve as she threaded her fingers through his hair, picking out bits of plaster with each sweep she made. “And you’ll behave, won’t you? You’ll keep up your energy. I don’t want to have to come back here to drag your shell home. It’s bad enough when it’s one of the others and you know how much I hate death.”

“I know,” Tony grumbled, batting her hand away. “I _know_.”

She let out a shuddered breath, turning her attention to Steve, who found himself straightening up to his full height under her gaze; her hand moved to _his_ hair, her fingers tenderly plucking bits of wood and fluff free. Her gaze suddenly turned so menacing Steve was surprised that the paint on the walls behind him hadn’t started peeling in an attempt to get as far away from her as possible.

“And I expect you to keep him safe. If I hear about him being injured or killed, you _will_ suffer,” she growled.

“Yes ma’am,” Steve said, nodding. “You can count on it.”

She smiled again. “Good,” she said. “We’ll meet again.”

She kissed Tony on the cheek, her tail patting Steve on the head and was gone in a swirl of pink and green light; those in the diner let out a collective sigh of relief, staggering free from cover.

Steve looked around and caught sight of their waitress sneaking around the kitchen counter towards them.

He gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry about the mess.”

She held out her apron, smiling weakly in return. “Uh, I think you’re going to need this,” she said, gesturing to Tony.

“Thanks,” Steve said, all too aware that he was now standing in the middle of a disaster zone clutching a naked man, albeit one he loved dearly. He wrapped the apron around Tony’s backside, fussing over the cuts and scrapes on Tony’s shoulders; they were healing over already, but it still felt a little like he should be doing something to clean them up. He yelped when Tony’s hand was suddenly in his front pant pocket, fishing around. “Tony!” he cried out, horrified.

Tony smirked at him as he worked his hand free, pulling out Steve’s phone; he wiggled it in front of Steve’s face.

“Oh thank god,” Steve exhaled, bumping his forehead against Tony’s. “For a second there I thought you were going to do something very inappropriate.”

“No, I’ll save that for the bedroom. Make Bucky bring me clothes,” Tony said as he wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck. He grumbled when the apron slipped using his tail as a makeshift belt to hold everything in place. “And then we’ll go home.”

“Yes Tony,” Steve laughed, hitting speed-dial with his thumb. He held the phone against his ear, clearing his throat as Tony’s heels tapped impatiently against his hip.

“Bucky? I’ve got a favor to ask you,” Steve said. He was pretty sure Bucky was going to give him hell, but at least this way they would be going home without getting stuffed into the back of a cop car.

Tony leaned backwards, waving to the waitress. “Can we get the rest of our stuff to go?”

The waitress looked nervously over to her boss, who was busy staring blankly at the damage that had been done. “I think he’ll be… _alright_ with that,” she said, shuffling through the mess towards the kitchen.

“Oh,” Tony called out, giving her a wink as he wrapped his arms tighter around Steve’s neck. “And bill Howard Stark for the food and the mess. I’ll make sure it goes through, don’t worry. Pick any number you like. He’s good for it.”

Steve rolled his eyes and hung up the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yarr... this be's the end of this tale. I'll probably end up doing more in this series eventually! Thanks for reading, commenting and kudoing! I really appreciate getting such awesome feedback!


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